I Hold Your Heart Or I Hold You Down
by Miss Meggie
Summary: Julie thinks she's left Jax far behind but three years later She's writing her first non-fiction book and She and Tim are on a break, Jax has just lost Tara. Julie feels undeniably draw back to help Jax at all costs. where will it land them all? Read and find out! **Sequel to You're Only As Lost As You Wanna Be**
1. Chapter 1

**AN: The "Lost" Writing Team is back and we own nothing but the idea please leave us a review ifyou liked it.**

Julie looked at the blank screen on her laptop. The cursor blinked, mocking her inability to string words together. Surrounding her at the old oak table were piles of transcribed interviews and meticulous notes. She'd put in her research time, done her homework. She even had an extensive outline. Her first journalism teacher used to say that after you'd done all that work, the story would practically write itself.

Her mission, which she had already accepted the book advance for, was to write a book about gutterpunks, the modern-day hobo subculture who spent their time panhandling, hopping freight trains, and just plain experiencing life. The idea had come to her when she was covering a trade summit in Seattle and had noticed the gutterpunks on nearly every corner.

She'd gotten friendly with a few who were camped out down the street from her hotel. No mean feat, since she was regarded with distrust, even though she was only a few years older them. But Julie had never met a potential source who couldn't be worn down with coffee, cookies, and honest questions. She found their stories exhilarating and amazing, and she couldn't stop thinking about them after she returned to Texas.

Julie wrote up the book proposal in a week and sent it off to a few agents. She hadn't breathed a word of her idea to anyone, not even Tim. When her phone buzzed with the call from a New York area code, it had felt like fate. Within weeks, she had a signed, sealed, and delivered contract along with a surprisingly hefty advance.

Tim had been... resigned but supportive was probably the best description. His eyes had widened when she showed him the check, but his mouth had set in a stubborn line when she explained her idea for "embedding" with the gutterpunks. In the end, he had done little more than shrug and tell her he'd be there for her, no matter what crazy idea she had. When she'd told him that he wouldn't be coming, it would ruin the authenticity of the experience, he'd just stared at her and then mumbled something that sounded like "Whatever you want."

Julie wasn't sure what had happened to the Tim who had chased her to Paris and talked her into returning to Texas. Sure, that had been three years ago, and maybe familiarity had bred some contempt. Or at least some complacency. Julie thought this separation would be the real test of their relationship. Either it would make them realize that they truly belonged together or it would make them realize that they could go their separate ways.

The original plan had been for Julie to spend a full six months with the gutterpunks, and then return to Texas to write the book. But she'd only managed four months. She consoled herself that she'd accumulated plenty of material to write the book, but the sad truth of the matter was that she preferred her creature comforts: hot showers, soft beds, and morning coffee.

So she'd decided to get an early start on the book and had fallen in love with a little town near the California-Oregon border. She'd rented a cabin near the beach and settled in to write. Although she texted Tim daily so that he'd know she was safe, she had sort of let him believe that she was still on the road with the gutterpunks. She wanted to avoid having him pressure her to return to Texas. She knew in her heart that she wasn't quite ready to go back.

Besides, she'd told herself that she'd be able to write the book in two or three months, when it would probably take three times that long with all the distractions of home. Of course, the last few days were putting lie to that. Maybe she needed distraction to make her focus, because the wide-open schedule and the solitude had only helped her write about four paragraphs, and she hated every last word.

Julie sighed and pushed her chair away from the table. She stood, stretched, and headed into the bedroom, where she changed into her running clothes. Then she set off for a long run, hoping the ocean air and blue skies would help clear her head. She ran for about an hour, then headed into the small town to pick up a coffee and some lunch.

In the coffee house, the TV was on, tuned to the noon-time news broadcast. Julie barely noticed, the announcer's voice a buzz in her ears while she studied the menu board, until a name from the past caught her attention.

"Jackson Teller, the President of the notorious Sons of Anarchy motorcycle gang, was earlier today released from the San Joaquin County Jail without charge in the killing of his wife Dr. Tara Knowles and Deputy Sheriff Eli Roosevelt."

Julie looked up and saw Jax, a few years older, with shorter hair and sadder eyes, trailing behind a slick-suited young lawyer, who paused on the steps to make a few points.

"The traffic camera footage, witness statements, and the very time of death all indicate that my client had absolutely no involvement in these tragic killings. It's unfortunate that the district attorney decided to drag her feet and grandstand for the last week instead of properly investigating and then releasing my client, whose young children should not lose both parents in this tragedy."

"But what about the plea deal on the gun charge?" shouted an enterprising reporter.

"Off the table. My client only took that deal to protect his wife, which is something the district attorney and the county utterly failed to do when they sent her home with the deputy sheriff. My client is innocent of all charges. If the district attorney thinks she can make a case on the gun charges, then she's going to have to build that case with evidence, not with a coerced confession."

The reporters surged forward, asking if Mr. Teller had any comment. The lawyer looked back at Jax, who nodded once, resigned. "I just want to get home, take care of my boys, and bury my wife. Now, please excuse me."

Jax pushed through the crowd of reporters, who at first surged forward, but then thought better of it. The look in his eye was enough to stop even the most shameless among them.

"Miss, it's your turn. What can I get you?" asked the barista. From his annoyed tone, Julie guessed that it wasn't the first time he'd asked.

"Um," Julie found that she couldn't take her eyes off Jax. She stood like an idiot, staring at the final footage of him being hustled into his lawyer's car. Then she shook her head, hard, like she could clear the fog. "I'm...I think I've changed my mind."

Julie walked back to her cabin in a daze. Tara...dead. Jax...accused, then cleared, and now alone with his boys. She hadn't even realized that he'd had another child. She remembered back to their time together, and she found her heart aching that Jax was in the situation.

Back at the cabin, Julie went on the Internet and read everything she could about Jax, Tara, and the motorcycle club. The list of murders and crimes that they were somehow suspected of was staggering. Three years ago, Julie could just about believe that the club was a bunch of motorcycle enthusiasts who supplemented their incomes in ways that were sometimes dubious, immoral, or of questionable legality. But it seems like things had taken a hard turn for the worse in the last few years.

Julie rubbed her eyes and closed her laptop. She was going to have a nap and try to resist the pull of Charming. Jax had his club, his family, and his sons. What could she possibly offer him?


	2. Chapter 2

Julie knows there's nothing she can really offer Jax. She knows that but still yellow lines on concrete lead her back to Charming. To Jax, to a part of herself she keeps hidden and shoved down. The part of her that liked Jax's inherent danger and easy smile, even as it horrified her.

She'd never really liked Tara, but that doesn't mean she deserved the ending she got. Would that have been Julie had she stayed? She shudders and turns up the soundtrack to "Nashville." A show Tim had gotten her addicted too. Despite Rayna's downright creepy resemblance to her mother.

The soft melody of "Lately" makes her miss Tim against her will. As if summoned by her thoughts her phone chirps Tim's happy tone. She lets it go to voicemail. She tells herself it's because she's driving but really she knows its because she's not ready to 'fess up to this insane need to help Jax.

So she drives, yellow lines flying as she sweeps into Lodi. She gives Sadie a passing thought last she heard her friend was married to an up-and-coming politician. She's a bona fide reformed wild child, polished up pretty.

-/-/-/-

As she stands on the periphery of the cemetery and watches the motorcade and the hearse, she's struck by the diminished size of SAMCRO. Jax leads, as always, eyes shielded from the world, but she can see so much pain, regret, and rage carved into him that she aches for him.

She inches closer to hear the words of the service fall on the wind and carry to her. He stands still as stone, barely breathing. The only emotion he shows is when he kisses a boy whom she assumes is Abel as he places a blue daisy on his mother's casket.

"What are you doing here Julie?" she turns to find Lyla.

"I tried to stay way. Really, I just couldn't."

"You're the moth, he's the flame. I know that feelin'." Julie hugs her friend. She was never quite sure how her relationship with Opie worked, but she's still sorry that her friend lost her husband. "He could make you believe anything probably, because he believed it himself. For all his faults, Ope was moral and honest."

"Who keeps Jackson straight now, Ly?"

"You're guess is as good as mine."

"No one." She answers her own question.

-/-/-/-

Julie slips away from the funeral before Jax can see her. She has no idea what to say to him and doesn't really know if he'd want her to say anything. Gemma's still alive, standing stony-faced throughout the ceremony, holding a baby boy, so it's not like Jax is all alone in the world. And he has the club. His blood family and his chosen family. Julie suspects that there's no place for her.

Julie slips back through the trees and gets into her car. She drives, barely making conscious decisions about where she's going. The main street is not too much different from when she left, although there might be a few more vacant shop fronts. A new ice cream and candy store looks somehow both inviting and frightening, but she can't quite put her finger on why.

She drives on and is shocked to find a gaping hole where the clubhouse used to be. Then, she realizes she's being silly. She read about a bomb in her frantic Internet search, but she didn't realize it had been so devastating and extensive. The mechanic shop seems untouched, but the metal gates are pulled across, and she has no idea if the business is still in operation. She can see the silver glint of an Airstream trailer, but it reminds her of Tim so she focuses attention back on the road.

She's at the streams before she realizes that she'd intended on going there. At least one thing in this world remains unchanged, tranquil and serene. She gets out of her car and picks a daisy, idly tearing off each petal. Visit him. Visit him not. Visit him. Visit him not. Visit him.

-/-/-/-

She stands on his porch and, for the fiftieth time that day, gives serious thought to just going home, but as she watches him through the gap of the drape and the window, she sees a look she knows.

It's a vacant I've-put myself-here-boxed-myself-in-now-what look that nearly breaks her heart all over again. The Jax that she knew always tried to do the right thing, after all he broke up with her. This time she wonders if that right thing is what will kill him. The baby crawls over him and smiles. Jax tries to return the smile, but tears well up in his eyes. Unable to take it any longer, she knocks.

When the doo opens, all she gets is "Pixie, never thought I'd see you again."

"Same goes, but here I am." She shifts awkwardly on her feet, waiting for him to invite her in.

"Come in, I'd heard through Lyla you were off being a steam punk? In Seattle?"

"Gutter punk. I'm writing a book."

"I'm not surprised," he says. She follows him into the room, where the baby is playing with stacking cups and Abel is crouched over the coffee table, drawing a picture.

"Hi Abel, you don't remember me, but we went to the zoo once upon a time."

The boy looks up, his eyes puffy and face solemn. "Mommy took me and Thomas to the zoo a few times. But now she's in heaven."

If small talk with Jax was awkward, this conversation was a whole new level of difficult. Julie gives the boy a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry your Mommy is gone. She still loves you very much."

Abel nods before returning his attention to his drawing. Julie looks back at Jax, finding him leaning against the wall and watching her, his face unreadable.

"I'm sorry, I don't even know why I'm here." The words are out of her mouth before she can stop them. But they're honest, and she can see immediately that Jax appreciates that honesty.

"I don't either, but we're always happy to see a friendly face. Have a seat, let me get you a drink."

Julie is about to decline the drink, but she figures a beer isn't going to keep her from driving and it'll definitely help this conversation. She nods and sits in chair across from the couch. The baby crawls over to her and regards her with open curiosity, waving a stacking cup at her. She reaches out and he puts the cup in her hand. She pretends to take a sip, then delicately balances the cup on his round little head. He smiles and then laughs, the sound gleeful and way too loud for this small, solemn room.

Jax returns with two Coronas. He manages to smile as he hands one to her. "That's Thomas."

Julie says hello to the child, noticing that he has Tara's eyes but that the rest of him is pure Jax. She doesn't say it out loud though. She still doesn't know what to say to him. But then she realizes that they can't really talk in front of the kids anyway. This knowledge relaxes her.

"Did you come all the way down from Seattle?" asks Jax.

"No. I'm finished with that part of my research. I've rented a cabin near the Oregon border."

"And is Tim with you?"

"No, he's in Dillon." She takes a long pull from the beer. She figures the less said about Tim, the better.

"I should've guessed. You can't even take the boy out of Texas, not really."

"He wanted to come along, but I told him I wouldn't be able to do my research. I had to become one of them, which would've been a lot more difficult with a sidekick."

"Especially one who probably wouldn't take kindly to dudes talking to his woman."

Julie shrugged. "He's not really like that. But he wouldn't have liked some of the things that I had to do. Better he not see any of that."

Jax raised an eyebrow, an invitation to elaborate.

"It wasn't anything like that. But I have hopped a few freight cars and maybe done a tiny bit of shoplifting."

The smile is genuine. "Julie Taylor, rule breaking rebel without a cause."

Her cheeks flush but she doesn't mind. They seem to be slowly slipping back into something that feels comfortable. It's not exactly how things used to be between them. And she knows that they aren't anywhere near the people that they used to be. But the teasing, the smile, it all makes her remember their time together.

She tells him stories about her adventures, stopping one memorable one mid-stream when she realizes that Abel is listening.

"Little pitchers have big ears. Or so Gemma used to say. I never knew what it meant."

"Must be a Mom-thing," says Julie. "I never understood it either, except it meant that the good conversation stopped."

"Get you a refill?" asks Jax, gesturing to her empty.

Julie stands up. "No, really, I should go. I just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing, but then I ended up talking about myself for an hour."

"It's exactly what I needed. Everyone is creeping around, asking me how I feel. Why ask questions when the answers are obvious. Your visit was way better than that." Jax lights a cigarette and holds the smoke for a long minute, like he's trying to steady himself.

"Well, I'm glad about that. I was actually surprised that you weren't surrounded by a ton of people."

"I sent them all home," said Jax, exhaling smoke. "But you, you can stay. We need to catch up, after the little pitchers are in bed."

Julie sits down and represses the urge to look at the clock. Bedtime must not be for hours, but if all Jax wants her to do is distract him with stories, she can do that.

**AN: We own nothing and we hope you enjoyed it! Please drop us a review if you liked it! – The Team**


	3. Chapter 3

**We own nothing. This is a Texas to Ireland co-write. It has been written in nap times, late nights, and early mornings. its so much fun but a ton of work so if you like it please do review! In the meantime? Thank you, for all of the follows and favorites and a single review! :) Enjoy!-The Team**

* * *

When Julie shows up at his door, it's like a ghost he'd buried to the bottom of his heart pops up at exactly the wrong time. He lets her in because she looks so torn between doing what she feels is right and what her southern upbringing tells her. He feels something other than unbearable sorrow for the first time weeks. He feels chagrined.

Julie has always been surprising and unexpected. She'd made him feel hopeful once. She comes in and distracts him with her adventures and plays with the boys. Once she settles down, she'll be great mother someday.

It feels odd and wrong to think of Julie at all with Tara gone, but if he puts his mind elsewhere even for a moment, the pain lifts.

They put the boys to bed and the silence hangs.

"What now?" she asks.

"More beer."

"Sure."

He brings her another Corona, and she's sitting in the floor restacking Thomas' little toys. Jax keeps stepping on them and while they aren't as bad as Abel's LEGOS, those fuckers hurt. "So, Pix what's the deal? You only run to or from something when you're either intrigued or terrified by it."

"Who says I'm running at all?" She cracks her beer, and her neat manicure catches his eye along with a paper cut on her middle finger.

He swigs his beer to fight a smirk he knows will make her angry. "You're drinkin' with me, Darlin.'"

"Convenience." She shrugs.

"Or history repeating itself."

Gone is the wide eyed girl he loved. The look he gets is a woman who's fully in control. "You can always hit the eject button."

"Nah, not yet." He smirks but they both know it's false.

She flips her beer cap like a quarter. "So what's my deal? I was in Seattle and those kids drew me in and I had to tell their stories. That's the thing Tim will never understand... stories, fictional or otherwise, I have to tell them because it fills up a part of me that Dillon doesn't touch.

"Dillon's like this bubble and when I leave it, I want nothing more than to go back into it because it's some kinda backwoods, dirt roads, always the same perfection but then after a while I feel held down by it. Not Tim- it holds his heart and everything that matters to him."

"Not everything, you're here." He replies knowingly. He lights a cigarette and inhales, The stinging in his lungs grounds him.

She stands and paces, and he remembers the girl he started falling for on his Mom's back porch. "Exactly! The wanderer in me connected to those kids and their desires and now, now I have their stories, their lives knocking around in my head with no way to get them out. I've done everything by the book. And it's not working!'

"Then stop. I write for my boys, the things I love and hate. I write the things that matter to me. Write like you're telling someone you love everything you saw. Lose the need to be perfect, Jules, and you'll find it."

She looks shocked, not that he writes, but that he had an answer for her. "You think?"

There's a wrongness and inconvenience in his sudden revelation that he's still very much attracted to her. "I know, if you put half of the passion I just saw on your face in the book, you'll be fine."

"I'm so sorry, I'm still rambling."

"Don't be, there's always so much going on in you, Julie. The joy that follows you is a nice change, I ain't felt the kinda hope you have in ages. You're confused as shit, but you got hope."

She collapses on the couch peering down, at him on the floor. "Where'd your hope go, Jax? Thought you were gonna change things?"

"So did I. Sometimes, I think the hope died the second my old man's bike hit the concrete of the highway." He stacks one of the stupid cups to distract himself.

"Other times?" she pushes.

He shrugs. "Other times the hope was Tara's. It wasn't ever mine. I never thought there was anything wrong with who I was til she pointed out there's something broken in all this. She was right, always was."

He looks up at Julie. "Used to piss me the fuck off too. She saw through it all, this isn't brotherhood, its bloodshed and waste and hatred and hell if I know how to fix it. Sometimes I wanna take my boys and run." He confesses his deepest held secret to the grain of the wooden coffee rather than Julie's face.

"Do it."

He'd been afraid she'd say that.

"Can't. Tara wanted to and I just, outta loyalty to my Dad, I had to fix the club and it killed her. I gotta make that loss mean something, Ope's too. It's gotta matter, if it's pointless it'll eat me alive." He sniffs back sudden and unbidden tears. He hates this grief. It cripples him.

"And burn away everything you love." Julie adds prophetically.

He nods in agreement "Bout the size of it, Darlin.'"

They talk well into the night and get sloppy drunk and fall asleep on the couch and love seat.

He wakes to the smell of pancakes and scrambled eggs and the sound of Don Williams' "Lord I Hope This Day Is Good."

He wanders into the kitchen and for the first time, it's not the place he found Tara. It's the place Julie's teaching Abel to two-step to a song he's pretty damn sure Tim put on Julie's IPod. There's no blood on the floor, instead it's Julie's purple-painted toes and bare feet dancing across the linoleum. For the first time in weeks, he hears Abel's beautiful high-pitched giggle. The crippling grief lifts for a moment, just for a single breath.

He leans on a kitchen chair and kisses Thomas. "The eggs are burning, Pix."

"Shit!"

He kisses the top of Abel's bubble-gum-and-little-boy-sweat scented head. "Little pitchers, Darlin. Mornin', Monster Boy."

"I'm dancin.'"

"I see that. Julie spins real good, make her do it." Jax grins at the dirty look she shoots him.


	4. Chapter 4

Jax wasn't sure where the morning and afternoon went. After breakfast, he and Julie had taken the boys for a walk to the park. Then they'd gone home and played a rousing game of hide-and-seek, even though letting Abel out of his sight for even ten seconds mafe Jax twitchy. Before he knew it, was lunchtime and then time for Thomas to have a nap.

Abel insisted on having a nap too, in Thomas's room, even though the boy hadn't napped in at least a year. He recognized a fight not worth having and put his hands up in silent surrender while Julie helped Abel drag his mattress into his brother's room.

"I don't know what that was," said Jax, settling on the couch next to Julie.

"It seems like he wants to protect his brother. A good instinct. Apple, tree, and all of that."

Jax lit a cigarette and sighed out the smoke. "I don't know how good a job I've ever done protecting anyone."

Julie bit her lip, like she was trying to keep herself from asking a question.

"C'mon, out with it, Pix. You know you can ask whatever you need to ask."

"I've just been wondering. How did things go so...wrong?"

Jax looked up at the ceiling as he exhaled, as though the answer would be written in the smoke. "Darlin', I wish I knew. I've been asking myself that for months. Maybe even a couple of years. Seems like every time I get in position to change things, something else hits us, blindside, and we're just struggling to survive."

"But you've survived and now you can finally set things right?"

His laugh was short and not quite as bitter as he'd expected. "Yeah. Now everything is going to be peaches and cream."

Julie ducked her head, her hair curtaining her face.

"Shit, I didn't mean it like that," said Jax, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear. She looked up at him and met his eyes, a moment suddenly stretching between them.

The front door swung open and Julie instinctively jerked away, sliding down the couch.

"Whose piece of shit is parked in your driveway, Jax?" asked Gemma as she barged into the room. She stopped suddenly to assess the situation, her smile freezing until it slid into an unpleasant, cynical look.

"Sorry, I didn't realize you were entertaining company."

"I was actually just leaving," said Julie, jumping up and picking up her purse.

"You don't have to go," Jax said to her, before directing his next comment to his mother, "although you probably should, Ma."

"No, that book's not going to write itself. Was good to catch up with you."

Jax stood up and hugged her, quick and fierce, but long enough to whisper in her ear. "The streams. Meet you there in an hour."

"Goodbye, Jax, goodbye Gemma," said Julie as she fumbled her way out the front door.

"Goodbye, Pixie," said Gemma, making the last word sound somewhat mocking.

"Really?" said Jax. "Was that really necessary?"

"Your wife's body is barely cold and you're already inviting the past in to cozy up with you? Jackson, that girl is a bad idea in so many different ways, I can't even begin to count."

"Tell me something, Mom, how long was it after Dad died before you took up with Clay. Oh wait, nevermind, that was going on before Dad died, so I guess that makes it okay."

Gemma's eyes flashed, but she sat down and sighed. "Grief makes you mean, Jax. It made your father weak, but it makes you mean. That's fine, I can live with that. But I'm just trying to look out for you here."

Jax rolled his eyes, but sank down on the couch. It would only take him 15 minutes to get to the streams and it was important that Gemma not think he was rushing out to meet up with Julie. Although with her suspicious mind, she'd probably suspect it all the same.

"Where's Unser? You two are joined at the hip these days."

Gemma lit a cigarette. "Hospital. He's got some kind of tests that are going to take most of the day. Thought I'd come over here, help out. Didn't know you'd already found some help."

Jax shook his head, let the dig pass by unremarked. He looked at Gemma to let her know he was serious. "Hope everything's okay with him."

Gemma shrugged one shoulder and Jax could see that they'd finally found something that they could agree on: these days, it felt like nothing would or could ever be okay again.

-/-

Julie stopped at a coffee shop for a latte and a brownie. She also picked up a few newspapers, then

headed for the streams, taking her time. Even so, she arrived more than a half hour early. She picked a place to park her car that gave her access to a shaded place to sit, a long view of the approach road, and a speedy escape. Her time spent in war zones for the newspaper and shady back alleys for her gutterpunk book had given her some new skills.

She sat down on a log and kicked off her shoes, letting her feet sink into the cool, tickly grass. She savored her first sip of latte and then glanced at the papers. The headline QUESTIONS STILL HANG OVER MC GANG LEADER was printed over a picture of Jax leaving court and LOTS OF PRESSURE, FEW LEADS accompanied a picture of a harried looking African-American woman whom Julie recognized as the district attorney.

Julie didn't think she could handle the papers right now, and she knew it had been a few days since she'd last spoken to Tim. She picked up her phone and called him, partly hoping that the call would go to voicemail. She felt an odd flutter in her stomach and rolled her eyes. She had nothing to explain or feel guilty about. She blamed her parents for instilling too good of a conscience in her.

Tim picked up on the seventh ring, then dropped the phone while he turned down the volume on a racous country tune about house rules. Julie knew he was in his pickup. Her mind immediately put him on the road to the dunes, even though she knew he was just as likely to be headed to Home Depot.

"Jules, how's life on the streets?" he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice, could picture the warmth in his eyes.

"Cold and damp," she replied, wincing only slightly at the lie. She didn't need any pressure from him about coming home. She did her best work when she was away from him, and this book needed to be her best work.

"You're not going to recognize the house when you get home. Our room is completely finished, now I'm starting on the second room, it would make a great-"

"I can't talk long, I just wanted to let you know that I was okay." She couldn't let him finish that sentence. He might have said office, but he just as easily could have said nursery. She didn't understand how the high school boy who lived in fear of a double-pink line on a pregnancy test had grown into a man who was just itching to paint a nursery and whisper to a bump. She wasn't ready to settle down like that, not yet, not even close.

"Oh, right, I understand. Thanks for letting me know. Any idea on when you might be home."

"Couple months, maybe longer. I still need to get a few more things done."

"I miss you."

"Me too." She knew it wasn't a lie, but she wasn't sure it was still the truth.

"Alright, we'll talk soon. Love you, stay safe."

"You too."

Julie disconnected the call and dropped the phone into her bag. She picked up the brownie and the newspaper. She smelled a story here in Charming, and she didn't know if it was just an easy distraction from the book or if it was more than that, but she wanted to know what had happened. And she realized that she especially wanted to know what happened next.

Some time later his bike roared up, breaking the silently peaceful moment. He walked toward her, squinting into the sun.

"Finally escape your Mama's clutches?"

"Just barely. Grief makes her extra clingy." He sat down beside her and plucked the newspaper out of her hands. She tried to grab it back, but he easily held it just out of reach while he read the headlines.

"Sorry," said Julie sheepishly.

"Unless you wrote it, you got nothin' to be sorry for." He dropped the paper onto the log and rested his elbows on his knees.

Julie felt like she was walking on a tightrope, but she couldn't help herself. She was a reporter, and she knew a hot story when she saw it.

"So is this reporter at all right when he rounds up the possible suspects?"

Jax glanced back at the paper and was silent while he scanned the sidebar. "Bizlats are unlikely. Mayans are possible. I definitely didn't do it, and I can't really think of any... current club member who would've done it."

The brief pause before the word "current" made Julie's pulse race. She looked sideways at Jax, then looked away while she casually asked. "Is there a former club member that you suspect?"

Jax smiled. "I see why you're good at this writing and reporting thing, Pixie."

She felt the heat of a blush warm her cheeks. "Sorry, occupational hazard. I can't seem to turn it off."

"Don't apologize. I'd hire you to get the full story, if I could."

"You don't have to hire me. I'd like to help you find out what happened. It could help you..." she paused, struggling to find a phrase that wasn't horribly cliched.

"Find closure?" asked Jax with a bitter twist to the words.

"No. I don't think there's ever any closure for a wound this deep and raw."

"Aren't you afraid that I'll just learn whatever you find out to get revenge on the murderer?"

Julie felt her heart catch in her throat, fluttering like panicked bird trapped in a cage. She hadn't considered that as a possibility. She forced her fear to quiet, then looked at Jax. "I think you've had enough experience with revenge to know that it won't bring Tara back and it won't help you be a good father to your boys."

"I hope you're right."

"My track record isn't quite as good as my mother's, but I'm right a fair bit of the time. So, if you really want me to look into this, I can. I should probably move down here, spend some time just hanging out so that people get used to me before I start asking a bunch of questions."

"What about the cabin?"

She shrugged. "It's just a weekly rental. I'll find a place down here. Probably wouldn't look real good if I stayed at your place."

"You could move into Tim's old place."

"No thanks, that would be too weird. I saw a few ads in the newspaper for small apartments above the shops on Main street. One of those would do fine. So, when I'm ready to start talking to people, who should I start with?"

"Damned if I know. Roosevelt is dead – he was probably the last person who saw her alive. One of the neighbors told me that there was an old pick up truck parked in the drive way. Unser has an old truck."

"Okay, I can start with Unser."

"Just be careful, Julie. He's spending a lot of time with my mother. I don't want her to know you're asking questions about Tara."

Julie frowned. "Your mom still isn't my biggest fan?"

"She doesn't trust you. Who knows what kind of crazy conclusion she'll jump to if she thinks you're asking questions and maybe looking for the truth."

"And here I thought it was because she's afraid of what I represent for you."

"And that is?"

"A road not taken."

"Among other things," he replied, and brushed her hair back behind her ear. She held out her hand, and he took it. They sat in the quiet, with their history hanging comfortably between them.

**We own nothing thank you for the follows and reviews thus far. If you're enjoying it please tell us.-The Lost Verse Team**


	5. Chapter 5

The apartment was small and dim. Because it was perched over Floyd's barbershop, it had a perpetually masculine smell, like shaving cream and disinfectant. Julie missed the cabin, but she had to admit that the grim surroundings lit a fire under her when it came to writing.

Every morning, she woke up early and pulled the laptop into bed with her, immediately starting to write. After a couple of hours of writing, she'd get dressed and go out for breakfast, then return to work on revising an existing chapter. It was a good system and meant that by early afternoon, she was free to pursue her other activities, which mainly consisted of hanging out in the candy shop, helping Jax with the boys, being friendly to the bikers, and avoiding Gemma at all costs.

After a couple of weeks, she was perfectly embedded and able to ask subtle questions and also just to eavesdrop. Unser was often at the candy shop, sometimes with the boys or with Gemma, and sometimes alone. Julie was friendly and chatty with him, but was also careful not to ask any direct questions.

The whole process reminded her of the few times that Tim had taken her fishing on the lake, the sitting and waiting, keeping half-an-eye on the bobber but trying to pretend like you didn't care what happened next. Or maybe it was just Julie and her impatience that yearned too much for the bobber to sink under the surface.

In her third week in Charming, Julie finally saw her opening and took it. She and Unser were in the candy shop alone when one of the deputies came in hesitantly.

"Can I help you, Robinson, you look like you took a wrong turn there," said Unser, stepping out from behind the counter.

"Oh, hey, Chief. I've got a warrant to question a Clint Harrison about some stolen property," replied the deputy.

"He's a nomad, Robinson, which means he don't stick around any place for very long. In fact, he's gone. And I'd suggest you get gone too, before the boys come back. We don't want any grief in here."

"Of course. Be seeing you around, Chief." The deputy tipped his hat and then walked out the door, a warm rush of air whooshing into the room as he left.

Unser gave Julie a tired smile as she wiped down the counter and then organized the jars of sweets. "Perk of the last post."

"Do you know many of the deputies now?" asked Julie, hoping the question was innocuous enough.

Unser lifted a shoulder. "Not really. Not anymore. I ain't been chief in a few years now, and moving the department to the county sheriff's office really changed everything. But I still know one or two."

"It must be a relief not to be responsible for the messes anymore."

Unser's smile was both genuine and rueful. "Sweetheart, you have no idea."

"I bet I don't," agreed Julie amiably. "But it also must suck to be out the loop. Especially on the big cases."

She nearly added "Like Tara", but she held back, determined not to show her hand too soon or spook him too much.

Unser settled into one of the stools and put his elbows on the counter. "I still hear things, from time to time."

"You know, as a journalist, that's my favorite kind of source. Someone reliable who hears things but won't be blamed or put in a bad position when the story comes out."

"Too bad I don't know any journalists in Charming. I could make someone's day. Maybe even name my price. Spend my last few days on a beach in Tahiti instead of in a rusty Airstream."

Julie felt her heart beat faster, but she forced herself to stay relaxed and keep her tone playful. "You must have heard something juicy to think it could send you to the south Pacific."

"I might've heard that the cops found the murder weapon. But I couldn't possibly say," said Unser.

Julie watched as a vein twitched in his forehead, the same one that twitched whenever someone asked him about his cancer or the treatments. Julie suspected that this was his tell, either for lying, being under stress, or both. She filed the information away and made a mental note to talk to Jax about it.

"So, ah, I've noticed Juice isn't around anymore. What happened there?" asked Julie.

"Haven't you asked Jax?"

Julie shook her head. "I try to only talk to him about happy stuff these days. The way the club has gone, I'm always afraid to ask about anyone who isn't around. The guy might be a nomad or he might be dead. I don't want to open any wounds."

"Then it's definitely best not to mention Juice. He disappeared around about the same time that Tara was killed."

"Really?" Julie cocked an interrogatory eyebrow, and Unser nodded solemnly. Julie would definitely have to talk to Jax about this now. She hoped she could figure out a way to do it.

-/-

Julie honestly didn't think Juice had it in him to kill someone, he had that aw-shucks charm that Tim had minus, Tim's confidence. Juice was even more hungry to please those he loved than Tim was when he was with Lyla.

She wasn't sure his need to please was so pathological that it would force his hand into murder. What motivation would he have for killing Tara? She knew from conversations with Rat that Juice was pretty much Clay's shadow for the remainder of his broken reign. Did his loyalties lie deep enough to settle old grudges that Julie had felt like ghosts haunting Jax even when they dated?

If not, then why hide?

-/-/-/-

There was a knock on her door that evening. She opened it to find a blonde woman with big brown eyes and angular face.

"Can I help you?" Julie said, more wary than curious. Charming wasn't exactly know for friendly neighbors and safe streets,

The woman smiled, all sharp and falsely mean. " Well aren't you just a pretty little band aid," she said, shaking her head in almost chagrined manner.

"Who are you?" Julie asked, highly offended by some blonde anorexic-looking tart calling her a band aid.

"Wendy Case, ex-wife and first band aid. " She stated dryly, leaning into the doorway.

"Again may I help you?" Julie pushed.

"I'm locked out of Jax's house, and I can't find the hide- a-key. I asked Abel where Daddy kept an extra."

"Hi Juey!" Abel's little blonde head popped out from behind Wendy's side. "I flush Wendy's key, it go all the way down." He grinned at her and it took every bit of southern raising had not to laugh.

She took her keys from the bowl by the door, removed it from the ring, and handed Abel the key. "This one no flushy."

"Okay."

There was something akin to jealousy in Wendy's gaze as the boy smiled at Julie with sugary sweet childlike charm that Jax had maybe once had but now was long gone.

"See you in the morning, Abel."

-/-/-/-/-

She woke up and did a little writing, On the way to the bathroom, she found Jax writing her a note. It startled her and she had to stifle a scream. "I forget you're quite the stealthy guy." She said, smiling as she leaned on the door frame between the kitchen and her tiny hall way.

He glanced up. "Oh hey Pix." He flashed a knee-knocking grin, and she remembered why she let him use their relationship as a floatation device all those years ago. Jax was undeniably likable at his most basic level. "Sorry if I woke you, darlin'."

"You didn't. I was going to the ladies room." She pointed back that way.

"Ladies room…" Jax laughed. "Right... southern belle. Well, this note is an invitation to lunch and…" He fished the key from his pocket "...Your Key." He placed the gold key on the counter.

"Stay. I have a lead we need to discuss." She said, escaping to the bathroom to both pee and gather her wits.

When she returned, she sat on the bar stool opposite him with the island between them to prevent too much touching and comforting. She knew where it would lead, just like she knows Shakespeare always chose the tragic, epic end.

"What're you thinking?" he asked, leaning his blue plaid covered elbows on the island.

"That violent delights have equally violent ends." She murmured.

"Tara, you mean." He hedged, not really looking at her but at his hand and a certain gleaming ring.

She shook her head. "No us, listen I'm not a reporter who tip toes around the meat of a story. So why did Unser say not to mention Juice to you? And why is he trying to shove Tara's murder toward Juice. He'd do anything for the club, he's like Tim no family that I remember, so why'd he bail?"

"He betrayed me, he's afraid of the consequences. That's why he left. I'm sure of it" He looked her dead in the eye he said it and she felt a foreboding chill. "As for why Unser said not to mention him strikes me as odd."

"Why was he in Clay's back pocket?" She whispered. Just mentioning Clay's name made her nervous.

"Because I put him there to clear an old club debt." Jax shrugged,

"Are you sure of Juice's loyalties? If he betrayed you once, is he capable of murder? I doubt it, but you know him better,"

She saw a quick, almost physically painful, flash in his eyes but it was gone in an equally quick flash. "I'm not sure of anything, Julie. I just know, that someone needs to answer for my sons' loss of their mother. And when we find Juice, you can find me answers."

"What about your loss, Jackson?"

"It's my own doing get back to your book Pixie." He said getting to his feet.

-/-/-/-

Jax felt pulled back to her like a moth that's had its wings singed, but still flits around the flame.

One evening, they snuck into Floyd's shop after closing time. Julie wanted to clean up Jax's ragged haircut and he agreed for reasons that he couldn't quite articulate. It was more than convenience, he knew that much for sure.

They'd only been in the barber shop for a few minutes when her phone rang, startling them both. She glanced at the display and smiled at him apologetically. "I kind of need to take this. I've missed his last two calls."

Jax nodded casually and slipped into the shadowy back room to give her some privacy. Part of him wanted to eavesdrop but the wiser part of him knew not to. After a few minutes, curiosity got the best of him and he strolled back to the main room.

Julie sat in a barber chair, spinning slightly, with her back to him. She laughed into the phone. "Timmy! You didn't! I know trying counts babe, just clean out the stove. Well I'm almost positive you used too much oil. Just because I don't cook things with faces doesn't mean I can't bake a damn cake…I know I got lucky quiet moment in the latest hostel. Well tell my Stevie boy I'm sorry I missed his championship game. Kiss Tilly for me, I know, me too... seriously clean my stove Timothy. I know you love me that doesn't mean you can let the house smell like burned cake till I get back. Alright love you too bye Tim." She hung up smilingly like she didn't believe what she'd just heard.

He stepped up behind her and turned the chair, then said "hi" softly, almost in a whisper. The smile hung uncertainly on Julie's lips. He thought she was about to explain whatever crazy story about a half-burned cake, but instead she just watched him.

He put it out of his head that she had just professed to loving Tim. He tried and failed to put Tara out of his head, as he leaned forward and kissed Julie anyway. It was soft and quick and barely there.

"What are we even doing, Pixie? You and I both know this only goes one way with us. It's up to you just how fast it gets there, darlin'" He said it with a smile, even though he knew she was very much Tim's family now, soon to be Tim's wife, if he got his way. She would never really be Jax's ever again. Maybe that's what made it easy to make the first move. He knew he had absolutely nothing to lose.

AN:We own nothing! If you enjoyed it or even if you didn't drop us a review!- Fleur &amp; MM


	6. Chapter 6

Julie pulled back and looked down, biting her lip. She could still feel Jax's kiss on her lips. She couldn't decide if it felt like a ghost or a premonition. He was still leaning over her, his hands on the arms of the barber chair, his hair brushing her forehead.

Her phone buzzed in her hand, and she glanced down to see that Tim had texted her a photo of his cake disaster. She wanted to smile, but she couldn't. Not when temptation was hovering over her. She turned the phone over and took a deep breath.

When she looked up, Jax pulled back enough so that she could look in his eyes. The intensity she saw there set off an avalanche inside her, but still, she couldn't move. She remember how conflicted she'd felt the first time around, and realized that this time, it was multiplied by a thousand because Tim hadn't done anything wrong this time.

Jax took a step back and put his hands up. "There's no pressure, Pixie."

Julie was about to explain herself when a sweep of headlights invaded the room. She heard a small chirp and suddenly blue and red lights were flickering into the empty barbershop.

"Shit. The last thing you need is to hassle over a bogus trespassing rap. C'mon," said Jax as he grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the front room, through the narrow hallway, and out into the alley where his motorcycle was parked. He handed her his helmet, which she put on and then sat down behind him.

She held on tight and closed her eyes, but he drove away slowly. It wasn't until they'd put several blocks between them and the cop car that he gunned the engine and suddenly they were flying, racing, and she could only enjoy the ride and not think about what had just happened.

-/-

After the conversation with Jax about Juice, Julie had spent a few days trying to routine ways that she knew to trace people. As a reporter, she had a few tricks up her sleeve, but she had a feeling that Juice was smarter than the average person-of-interest-on-the-run. When the usual searches turned up nothing, Julie knew she'd have to ask a favor of a source.

Alec was a brilliant hacker with a humanitarian streak who sometimes passed Julie vital information about shady businesses or government coverups. She hadn't always been able to prove everything in a way that would satisfy her newspaper bosses, and really that was one of the key reasons that she took her book deal and ran away from conventional journalism when the opportunity landed in her lap.

A few weeks before she'd left for Seattle, she'd come home to find a tiny futuristic-looking cell phone and a note on her bedside table. The note informed her that the cell phone charged itself after fifteen minutes of exposure to direct sunlight and that she should call the one pre-programmed number if she ever needed help or was in trouble.

At first, she'd thought that the timing was fortituous but she'd soon realized that she just didn't believe in coincidences. For whatever reason, Alec and his friends looked out for her. And although she hadn't needed to use the phone, she'd always been grateful to know that it was in a secret pocket in her backpack.

She sat down in a chair in her writing room, pulled out the phone, and found the single number in the contacts book. Her finger hesitated over the call button for a few seconds, but then she sighed and pressed the button.

Alec answered on the third ring. "Talk to me, mama, the dirtier the better."

"Alec?" she said uncertainly. "It's Julie Taylor."

She heard the sound of someone sitting bolt upright and then a crash and a muttered curse. She wasn't positive, but she would've bet money that he'd just spilled orange soda all over his keyboard.

"Julie! Good to hear from you. I...ah.. I thought you were someone else. What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for someone, a friend of a friend who's on the run. My friend really needs information from him."

"I see. And tell me, is this friend of a friend on the run from your friend or from someone else?"

"Both, I guess. But I'll be getting in the information and only passing it on. I'm not interested in getting anyone hurt."

"All righty then, that sounds legit to me. Hit me with a name and all identifying info."

Julie gave Juice's full name, his date of birth, his nicknames, and his identifying features, namely a boatload of tattoos.

Alec let out a low whistle. "Julie, what kind of friends are you keeping these days? This guy is wanted for questioning in two unsolved homicides and one disappearance. Not to mention an explosion in Arizona."

"It's... complicated," she said, unsure of what to say next. She listened to the tippity-tapping of Alec's typing.

"Okay, so this might be a long shot, but I have a police incident report dated from yesterday in Seattle. A man matching the description of your friend of a friend was stopped on University Way and questioned. But as the cop was radioing in a 10-29, your friend kneed him in the balls and rabbitted on out of there."

Julie's mind was spinning. University Way was a place she'd spent a lot of time, and she still probably knew plenty of people that might have seen something or might know Juice. She had a feeling that if she got there quickly enough, she might be able to find him.

"Great, thanks, Alec. I owe you one."

"Now just a minute, young lady. Are you thinking of chasing after this guy? Because I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

"I'll be fine, Alec. Really," replied Julie, hoping she sounded braver than she felt.

"I have a colleague that I could send with you. He'd look after you."

Julie's mind flickered back to the last time she'd met Alec in person so that he could handover some documents in a police corruption case. A muscled guy with a ponytail had loitered at a corner table of the dark bar in Austin. He had radiated menace and concern, and Julie hadn't been able to shake the feeling that he'd followed her all the way back to Dillon. Yet somehow, his presence was settling rather than unnerving.

"No, really, I spent months on the street in Seattle. I can look after myself." On some level, Julie knew that the muscled bodyguard was the absolute last thing her life needed. Another strong, silent guy with hidden pain and depths. She was realizing that she might just have a type, and it wasn't the clearn-cut bumbling quarterback.

"All right, all right. I hear you. At least let me play travel agent here. I imagine you want to get up there pronto and I just happen to have frequent flier miles burning a hole in my inbox."

Julie was not one to pass up a free flight, even as she realized that Alec might send someone to keep an eye on her. "That would be great. You're the best."

"Thank you, thank you. It's hard to be so awesome. That's for sure."

A few minutes later, Julie had a couple of emails in her inbox: a ticket for flight at 8 am the next morning, a reservation and paid receipt for one night at the best hotel in Seattle, and a sweet note from Alec asking her to call if she even thought about trouble. Julie truly hoped that wouldn't be necessary.

-/-

Seeing Jax drive his truck is odd. It's almost like the mere thought of four wheels gave him anxiety. The truck wasn't an extension of himself the way that his bike was. But Julie needed a ride to the airport, and he'd been happy to oblige. She leafed through a folder of book notes. She was letting him think that this trip to Seattle was only about her book. She wasn't going to pass on any intel on Juice until she knew what she had and was sure of how Jax would react.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, why?" she asked, absentminded, tuning her mind back into the truck so that she didn't accidentally let anything slip.

"You have your reporter face on and I'm curious. How do you get strangers to open up to you?"

She laughed. "Usually it just takes the right question. Sometimes it takes the right question and a cup of coffee. Or a dinner. It just depends."

"So what are you thinking about?"

"That I had forgotten you drive like a grandma." This forced a bark of laughter out of him.

"Grandma's don't wear leather."

"Maybe the kinky ones do." She retorted, leaning back against her door to eye him.

They didn't mention the kiss they just banter back and forth until she was forced to say goodbye at the airport. She leaned across the seat and gives him a gentle kiss on the cheek, nearly overwhelmed by his dusky scent. She slipped out of the truck before he could touch her or respond. As long as the question of Tim hung in the air, it was better for her to keep her distance from Jax.

-/-

Tim stepped back from the house and admired his work on the porch. He'd spent the weekend turning it into the perfect place to relax with a good book. It had a cushioned porch swing, a couple of rockers, and even a ceiling fan for when the Texas summer air became too much. He couldn't wait to share it with Jules, so he pulled out his phone and called her.

The phone rang about eight times before she answered with a curt "Tim, can you just give me one minute?"

Before he could respond, she was talking at someone in tones that would've made Coach proud. He grinned as he strained to listen to his gal give someone hell.

"Look, Fish, I didn't come all the way back to Seattle just to get the runaround. You need to tell Pedro that Julie Taylor needs to talk to him."

Whoever Julie was talking to mumbled something that Tim couldn't catch.

"It's none of your business, but no, I'm not looking for child support, and I'm not going to tell you what I am looking for. Pedro will want to talk to me, so get off your ass and tell him."

Tim heard more mumbling and then Julie laughed bitterly.

"If Pedro had a phone then I could've saved myself a thousand mile trip. Look, it's your funeral. Don't tell him. I'll manage to find him on my own and then he's going to be pissed."

The mumbling went up an octave but then he heard Julie hurl a sarcastic-sounding "thank you."

"Sorry, Tim."

"Is this a bad time?"

"No. I unexpectedly am going to have a few hours to kill so it's a great time. What's up?"

Tim was about to tell her about the porch when he remembered what he'd just heard. "Hey, Jules, what do you mean flying back to Seattle? Were you hopping freight trains again?"

Julie's pause was a few seconds too long, and she swallowed hard before saying "Nope, no freight trains."

"I just want you to be honest with me."

"The truth...the truth is that I've been in California for the last few weeks. I needed to put some distance between me and Seattle while I work on the book."

Tim was relieved to hear that she was done with her embed with the gutter punks, but he felt like she still wasn't giving him the whole truth. He nearly took the easy way out and asked about the book, but a small and insistent alarm was sounding in his head, and he just couldn't ignore it.

"California, huh?" He collapsed onto the swing.

"Yeah."

"You visiting the old stomping grounds?"

Her sigh sounded like defeat. The street noises disappeared and he guessed that she had ducked into a building. The only sound was the irregular swish of automatic doors opening.

"I was in a cabin on the Oregon border, but then I ended up back in Charming. Jax, well, he's been having a rough go of things lately and I've just been helping him out a little."

Tim swallowed his first impulse, which was to say "I bet". He stayed perfectly still as he considered his words carefully. All he could think of was that stupid calico kitten he'd given her in Charming. He'd named the cat Jesse James, before Julie'd pointed out that it was a female cat. JJ never liked a closed door – she didn't care about going into a room, but she always wanted to know that she had the option.

"And, uh, what's going on between you and Jax?"

"Nothing, really."

Tim could hear that unspoken "yet" floating through the space between them. He took a deep breath and pressed his eyes closed. "It's okay."

"What do you mean, Tim?"

"I mean...well, I don't rightly know what I mean except that I haven't put a ring on your finger and you don't owe me any explanations. No regrets, Taylor. You do what you need to do."

Her laugh was bitter and choked. "It's so predictable that you'd start calling me Taylor as you're breaking up with me."

"I'm not breaking up with you. Not like you mean. I'm just trying to give you the space, opening the door, to make whatever decisions and choices you need to make. I think I'm the best guy in the world for you, Jules, but if you need to do something stupid to realize that, then go ahead. I'm not going to be the guy who stands in your way."

"Tim...I don't know what to say."

"You just think hard about what you're doing. I'll probably be here to pick up the pieces, but really, I don't want to have to." He disconnected the call before she could say anything and went into the house to get a beer.

-/-  
Only Tim could dump her and still make her feel like she was the person he loved most in the world. She didn't know what she'd done to be worthy of loyalty like that, but she knew that if she stood there thinking about it too long, she'd end up crying in the middle of the freaking Academy Sports Store.

Without realizing it, she had meandered into the college section and there in front of her was a huge cardboard cutout of the school mascot for the college at which her mom is the dean of admissions.

It might be a sign she needs to call her mother. Or it could mean she that she needed to get the fuck out of this place before she totally lost her shit.

She swallowed back her tears and marched to the door.

Her phone rang. "That was fast," she said into the phone.

"You scared the shit outta Fishy. It ain't rocket science, Texas Rose."

"What I needed to talk-" began Julie, hoping to get the information as quickly as possible.

"Listen bitch cookie, you want info, then feed me."

Julie smiled. Pedro's manners had always needed some work. "Gentlemen, don't call a woman a bitch cookie."

"I need more hormones and the tits chopped before I'm considered anything close to a gentleman, Julie."

"Fine," said Julie, resigning herself to having to wait at least a little while longer before getting any answers. "I'll meet you at the Mickey D's in Pioneer Square. Bye!"

-/-/\\-/-

She gave Pedro a few minutes to dig into his food before pouncing with her questions. Despite Pedro's deepened voice and sparse facial hair, he still had a petite stature with a delicate boned face.

Julie had wondered why Juice was in this area. And if anyone knew why he was here, it would be Pedro, who he ran this section of town.

"So what was Juan Carlos Ortiz doing in your section of the hood, Pedro?" She stared him down refusing to let him break eye contact. "You owe me P, don't make me call on it. I just want to know why Juice is here and where he's going."

"Why?"

"It's safer you not know, but he's wanted and I need contact with him to help him."

"You mean that?"

"Have I ever lied to you?" It felt wrong to even say that because she was lying. Her alligeince was to Jax alone, even if she truly believed Juice to be innocent.

Pedro dragged a fry through ketchup. "He needed new IDs and I gave him a place to crash."

"And?"

Pedro studied Julie's face like the answers to a puzzle had been written there. Finally, he sighed and seemed to deflate. "And he's headed to somewhere south, I don't know where, to a tattoo artist who specializes in deep tattoo removal. Or maybe it's a clinic. I don't know, exactly. He said we'd both be safer if I didn't know everything."

Julie was about to thank him and leave, before she realized that she was lacking one crucial piece of information. "Pedro, what's your connection to Juice?"

"He's my big brother." He whispered.

Julie hoped that she'd been able to cover the widening of her eyes. That was about the last answer she expected to hear.

-/-/-/-

Julie opted for a cab over calling Jax to pick her up. She wasn't sure she was quite ready to see him. She turned her phone over and over for a few minutes before deciding she needed to talk to her mother.

"Hey my girl…" Her Mom's voice made her smile.

"Hi Mom."

"What's the trouble baby? I thought you were too busy gutter punking for chit chat?"

"I'm not doing the embed research anymore I'm writing, I just… Tim broke up with me because I need to find a way to make myself happy. All Tim needs to be happy is … shit I don't know." Julie pressed her face against the window of the back door and watched the scrubby landscape blur past.

"All he needs is you. He's a simple guy Jules with average life goals. You have never been simple Babe, your aspirations have always been bigger than your raising and that's a beautiful thing."

Julie smiled as her mom paused for breath, knowing she'd continue in a second.

"That thing that we're taught to believe, that you can have everything you want is a lie, you can't have everything you want but you can and will have every thing you need. Your wants will change to mold around your life but you have to make choices."

"But how do I know which choices are right? Sometimes it seems like one choice...I don't know, ineeds/i me more than another choice."

"Life doesn't show up at your feet perfectly wrapped and ready for you, you have to find it, work for it, and love it. Whether it's being a small town report who occasionally does an expose in between little league bake sales ,or if its being someone who tries to save the world with her words. It doesn't matter, you still have to choose it, Julie."

The Welcome to Charming sign goes watery with her tears. "I gotta go, Momma."

"Julie don't cry honey, It'll be okay…"

"I love you Mom, I need to go."

"I love you too baby."

Julie disconnected the call, and let out a long, sad breath. She noticed that her mother thought that her ambivalence was more work-related than relationship-related. Her mom clearly thought that she was debating leaving Tim to pursue adventurous work. She wondered what her mother would've said if she'd known that Jax was the choice waiting for her.

-/-

Back at her grim apartment above the barbershop, Julie made a quick, habitual check behind the shower curtain, under the bed, and in every closet. She had no idea what she'd ever do if she found a bad guy lurking in any of those spots, but she knew that if she didn't make the check, she'd wake in a panic at the first whisper of wind on her window.

She unpacked her small backpack and re-filed her book notes in the accordion folder on her desk. Then she dug out her secret cell phone and called Alec.

"Always lovely to hear from you, Julie," he answered.

She smiled. "Thanks. And thanks for the first class treatment on the Seattle trip."

"That? That was nothing. Just some frequent flyer miles that I had sitting around."

"Well, I really appreciate it. But unfortunately, as you might have predicted. He was gone before my plane even landed."

"Do you have any line on him? I can do searches, you know," replied Alec.

"All I know is he's headed south to a tattoo artist who specializes in deep tattoo removal."

"That's all you've got?"

"Um, he has new ID."

"Seriously?"

"Sorry," said Julie, feeling guilty that she was asking so much with such little information.

"Are you kidding? The less information, the better. I love a good challenge."

"Are you being sarcastic?" asked Julie. She heard a grumble in the background.

"My colleague here wishes that I was, but the truth is, I really do love challenges. I've got all kinds of searches and bots to do my bidding. Lesser people have people. I have bots."

Julie laughed. "Great. So when Skynet becomes a reality, we'll have you to thank."

"I promise you, it's not going to come to that. Now, I do have to warn you that it's going to take a few days, maybe even a week or two to find this guy for you."

"Alec, I've got nothing but time right now."

"I'll let you know when I know. Stay safe." He disconnected the call before Julie could respond. She was grateful to have such an odd and tech-savvy guardian angel.

-/-

We do not own anything SoA FNL or Leverage related. Obviously Alec is not our creation but he felt like popping in for a chapter or two. If you liked tell us it feeds the muse. Thank you for reading!- MM &amp; Fleur!


	7. Chapter 7

Jax returned to the candy shop after a run to find Gemma and Unser watching Thomas and Abel. Thomas was sleeping in Gemma's arms while Abel colored a picture from a giant coloring book.

Jax had noticed that Gemma bought Abel a pile of coloring books right after Tara died, but he didn't understand why until he found a sheaf of papers, all with crayon-drawn pictures of a prone stick figure and a little boy crying. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the boy was trying to deal with the death of his mother, but Jax wondered why Gemma had a problem with that. In the end, he'd just chalked it up to Gemma's eternally complicated relationship with his wife and had put the thought out of his mind, even though it nagged at him now and then.

Jax shook his hair out of eyes and smiled at his sons. "I see you're having a good time with Grandma. Hope she didn't give you too much candy."

Abel smiled. "Not too much. Just the right amount."

"I'm surprised the kid doesn't have a belly ache," grumbled Unser.

"You're right. Maybe you should take the kid outside, run off some of that energy in the back."

"I want to ride imy/i motorcycle!" announced Abel, rocketing off his seat and racing for the back door.

Unser looked from Jax to Gemma, and Jax wasn't sure where he was seeking permission or why. But Unser got up slowly and followed in Abel's wake.

Jax sat down and lit a cigarette, careful to blow the smoke away from the sleeping baby.

"How was the run?" asked Gemma.

Jax shrugged one shoulder and looked out the window. He watched a familiar homeless lady push a shopping cart down the road, one wheel wobbling precariously.

"So, ah, where's Pixie?" His mother was trying for a casual tone and was missing by at least 500 miles.

"She left me. Went back home to Texas."

"Really?" Hopefulness outweighed surprise in Gemma's voice, and Jax almost pushed the lie forward.

"No, not really. She's in Seattle, nailing down some shit for her book."

Gemma rolled her eyes as her lip curled in disgust. "I have to say, Jax, it's been nice not having her flit around here, digging her nose into everyone's business."

"She hasn't even been digging anywhere," protested Jax, grinding out the cigarette with more force than was necessary.

"She's a reporter, Jax. You don't want her getting too close. God only knows who she's telling what to. I'd watch her close."

"She's a friend of the club, Ma. And more than that, she's a friend of mine."

"A friend, huh?"

"Yeah, Ma, a friend. So back off. You want to talk about digging into business that doesn't belong to you. It's practically your specialty."

"Jackson, I understand that you're still grieving, and I know the Teller men's drug of choice for that is pussy, but you still should be smart about where you seek icomfort/i."

He felt the muscles in his fists tensing and knew he had to get some air. He nearly plucked Thomas out of her hands, but knew he couldn't deal with a difficult wake up. Instead, he stood up, shook his head, and walked away.

He pushed open the heavy back door and found Abel racing around orange cones on his kid's battery-powered Harley. He smiled and felt the anger receding.

"Everything all right?" asked Unser.

"Just fine."

Unser still looked tense, and Jax wondered why but knew there was no point in asking. So instead, he asked a question that had been on his mind for a few weeks. "You know, I've been meaning to ask you. One of our neighbors said that she saw your truck in our driveway, around the time that Tara was killed. You know anything about that?"

"Lots of trucks look like mine. I think I stopped over that morning, but I really don't remember. Chemo brain, you know?"

Jax nodded and turned his attention back to Abel. He didn't let on, but he knew Unser hadn't quite managed to look him in the eye, and he wondered what that meant. He knew Unser wasn't the type to kill anyone, but maybe someone had grabbed his truck keys.

-/-

Jax agreed to let the boys sleep at Gemma's for a few days. He had dinner alone in his house, then got on his bike and headed for downtown Charming, fooling himself into thinking he was just going to the new clubhouse when really, he knew he was hoping that Julie was back from his trip.

He slowed down as he approached Floyd's, feeling strangely like he was a teenager, creeping through Tara's backyard to toss pebbles at her window. He saw the lights on and could see a shadow moving around the apartment. Relief that she was back won out over hurt that she hadn't called him. He knew he should probably keep on driving, but he parked his bike instead and climbed the rickety stairs to her back door.

He knocked three times, then stepped back so she could see him through the peephole. After what felt like a lifetime, he heard the scrape of the safety chain and the click of three deadbolt locks opening. She pulled back the door wordlessly and stepped back to let him in. She locked the door behind them, then pushed past him into the living room where she sat down on the couch.

Jax sat down next to her and was about to ask when she'd gotten back when he caught a good look at her face. Her eyes were puffy, and she looked sad and a little lost.

He put a gentle hand on her arm. "What's wrong? Did something happen to you during your trip?"

Julie bit her lip and looked down. "Tim broke up with me. On the phone. While I was standing in a goddamn sporting goods store."

Jax tried to keep the relief off of his face as he pulled her into his arms. She resisted for a second, but then relaxed into him.

"I'm sorry." He said but the words ring false even to his own ears.

"For what?" she's leaned out his embrace to catch his eye. "You didn't do anything Jax what happened with me and Tim happened because it's me and Tim. We're so different and that's what holds us together and tears us apart-" He kissed her because what she's saying sounded like his and Tara's song and dance in another tempo, and he couldn't take it.

He didn't expect her to kiss back but she pulled him in deeper and did just that. It was different and just for a moment he reveled in it. He'd forgotten the gentleness of Julie and her kissing. But she's more aggressive than she used to be, so the gentleness gave way to heat. He was half on top of her tugging at her hair, kissing her back and willing himself just for a second to forget Tara, forget the anger that lurks inside him like another person entirely.

Julie felt different. She's softer beneath him, and she smelled sweeter. There's no lingering scent of the pot and hand sanitizer that always clung to Tara, and even though it felt like a sin, he forgot and was glad for it.

They were shoving and tearing at each other's clothes. He knew that he should stop, check on her, make sure that this is right. But he didn't. He just kissed her again.

They tumbled off the couch and onto the floor, and he laughed, hard. So hard his sides hurt. "Pixie I haven't made out with a girl on a couch in ages, thanks for making me feel young again. I haven't felt that in even longer."

He caught his breath and peered over at her as she giggled up at the ceiling. Suddenly, she stopped laughing and sat up, pulling her shirt back on and buttoning the buttons. "I don't want to be a band aid Jackson."

"Do what?" He asked.

She got to her feet and started pacing before he'd even sat up. "Wendy called me a band aid and I don't want to be the thing you use to patch your holes, Jax. I don't know what I want but I know I don't want that."

"You aren't a fucking band aid, Julie you're my friend. My friend who I am still very attracted to, as it turns out."

Julie sat down on a chair, well out of his reach, and he propped himself up on his elbows so he could maintain eye contact with her. "We were friends last time Jax, and we still ended up fucking like rabbits."

"I told you, we're gonna end up where we always did. But you're my friend, not a band aid. The difference between you and Wendy? I loved you. I didn't love her. I loved you and I'm not going to hurt you, and I'm going try like hell to keep you outta the blast radius that is my life."

"You stopped thinking there. I felt it," she said, looking down and biting her lip again. He wanted more than anything to get up and kiss her again. He hated that look, hated it more than any accusatory and angry look he'd ever seen. The doubt in that look was like a knife in his heart.

"I did," he admitted, then dropped back down on the floor.

"You loved me, huh?" Her voice was soft, and he could feel it creeping into places that he didn't know he had left, waking up feelings that he thought might be gone forever.

"Probably still could, if I let myself but, I don't know if I can, or should, do that again."

She eased herself down onto the floor and stretched out her legs so that her foot was resting on his calf. "Jax, you only get one great love of your life, and I'm not asking for that."

"Why? Because the Tim's the love of your life?"

"Probably…" she sighed. "I just know that as restless as I am, no matter how much my brain never shuts up, he makes me feel whole."

"Can't help you there Pix but I can make your brain shut up. Trust in that, Darlin'. I'm nothing if not dedicated to a good lay." He smiled at her, and she laughed.

"Jackson!" Her kick was playful, and he wondered what might happen if he stuck around. But he could still see doubt in her face, and he knew that he needed to not be there while she thought things over. So he stood up, tucked in his shirt, and kissed her on the forehead on his way out. He'd half-hoped that she'd stop him, but when she didn't, he knew he was doing the right thing. And he knew they'd always end up right where he predicted, even if he didn't know exactly how they'd get there or when.

-/-/-/-

Jax went home to his empty house that was all things Tara and drank himself to sleep in a fashion that would have made Piney proud. So that next morning when his phone trilled, his actual phone not his burner, he answered it groggily.

"Hello," he muttered, wiping the sleep from his eyes as his head split unpleasantly.

"You forget we're friends, Jax?" The words were tersely spoken but he knew that drawl.

"No, Tim, I didn't."

He laughed dryly. "You did forget. I know you. Jules' mama once said destruction recognizes itself in others. Twisted kin and all that. That's why I was attracted to Charming and to our friendship."

Jax closed his eyes and sighed. "I don't know what you think you know, Tim. It's been a long time."

"I know you always liked to bury yourself in Julie, just like I know Julie sees good before anything else and is almost blind to the bad when she loves. Know what that means, Jax?"

"What?" he asked tiredly, his patience running out.

"Means she ain't Tara, buddy. She won't try to change you. She'll just love you. You drag her through your pain and get her killed or hurt her, I am going to kill you. I will kill you that's a promise."

Jax started to speak, but the dial tone blared accusatorially at him. He dropped the phone and stared up at the ceiling. "No, you won't kill me. You're not a killer. That's the difference between us."

-/-


	8. Chapter 8

Julie's experience with whore houses extended about as far as the old Dolly Parton movie "The Best Little Whorehouse In Texas." And no further. She didn't know what to expect, much like the first time she'd walked into the clubhouse. This time though, she knew to walk in as though she owned the space she was occupying.

Journalism 101: Stand your ground, always.

She opened the door half-expecting Def Leppard's "Pour Some Sugar On Me" to blare back at her, but it is quiet. She shoved her sunglasses up on to her forehead as she inspected her surroundings. The place was clean and filled with striking colors and inviting furniture designed to make a man dig in and make himself comfortable. It was all smartly designed to make you stay awhile.

She marched up to the sleek looking glass reception desk. "How can I assist you, sugar?" A statuesque brunette woman asked in a clearly put on southern drawl.

"I'm looking for Lyla Winston."

"Oh your accent is quite real, sweetness. Color me jealous. Venus Van Damme at your service." She extended her hand.

"Julie Taylor." She shook the woman's hand.

"Are you looking to enter into companion services? We could use someone with your wide eyed innocence."

"Uh no," said Julie, feeling her cheeks start to burn. She looked around awkwardly, hoping that Lyla would arrive soon.

"Don't let that pure as the driven snow bullshit fool you, Venus. She's more spice than sugar." Lyla said coming up behind Venus and stepping around the desk to hug Julie. "I heard you were in town. I was hoping you'd drop by."

"Heard from who?"

"The guys practically live here. Take your pick... Lets order up some lunch and you can tell me the real reason you're here."

-/-/-

They sat up at the bar, eating pizza and sipping beers. "So girl…" Lyla pushed her to talk.

"You know me. Once I find a story, I have to track it down even if it burns my life to the ground." Julie said, biting into her pizza.

"Don't tell me, Julie…" Lyla stared her down, disapproval clear in her expression.

"I'm helping Jax find Tara's murderer."

Lyla put down her slice. "Jules! You could be stepping into a turf war or an internal beef! There's a reason Juice skipped town, honey, and it wasn't a good one."

"You mean that he was involved in Tara's murder?" Julie put down her pizza and took a long pull from her beer, watching Lyla with wide eyes.

Lyla shook her head. "I don't know anything about that. But I do know that Juice did something for the club, something that made wash down a bunch of pills with way too much bourbon."

"A suicide attempt?" asked Julie, trying to square the idea of goofy, sweet Juice with enough guilt to drive a person to take his own life.

"That's what it looked like. They didn't take him to the hospital or anything. What's really going on here, Julie? Could you even write this story? Isn't it a...conflict of interest or something?"

"I'm going to help Jackson any way I can and that's part of the problem," Julie looked down and took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. "He kissed me, Lyla. Like really, really, full-on, no-taking-it-back kissed me."

"Do you want to take it back?" Lyla asked face neutral.

"Well, I guess not. I kissed him back until we ended up falling off the couch," she replied, picking olives off her pizza.

Lyla leaned back and studied her friend carefully, then nodded slowly. "Ah, you're trying to figure out if you can handle loving someone while being a poor substitute for a ghost? Am I right?"

"Lyla…" Julie said regretfully even though the scantily-clad woman had hit the nail on its head.

"It's okay, Jules. Ope was a lot of things I admired, including devoted to his wife. The first one." She paused for a moment, looking off at a spot in the distance before returning her attention to Julie. "I know that he knew I loved him, and I will never regret the time I had with him. But living in the shadow of a dead woman? It's goddamned hard. If you do it, you better really think it through, because it's gonna leave a mark."

Julie sighed and finished her beer. "Thanks, Lyla. I owe you for the information and the life advice."

Lyla leaned over and gave Julie a hug, finishing it with a tight squeeze and a whisper in her ear. "Just be careful, okay? We're running out of place to put our dead friends."

Julie drove home in a daze, turning over everything in her head. She tried to focus on the information and seeing how it fits into what she already knows.

Back at her grim apartment, Julie had to admit that her writing process was starting to suffer a bit now that she was moonlighting as a private detective. Unless she wanted to write the definitive history of SAMCRO or a true crime tick-tock of Tara's demise, both ridiculous ideas that she dismissed out of hand.

Still, as she wrote her careful notes about Juice on color-coded notecards, she wondered why she was putting so much effort into something that probably wasn't going to be a story she could tell to a mass audience. Then she stepped back, looked at the timeline she'd started on the wall, and slotted the note cards into the places where she thought they belonged. She knew the wall was starting to look like the work of an obsessive mad person, the sort of shorthand visual clue that in a movie would either be the work of a serial killer or a conspiracy theorist.

Maybe she wouldn't be able to tell the story as a journalist, but she knew that she was pouring in the effort so that she'd one day be able to tell the story to one friend.

-/-/-

Jax sat at the island counter that Julie used as her dining table and picked carefully at his dinner. It was some kind of fussy risotto that he was sure she'd worked hard on, but he thought it was tasteless and had a texture that was suspiciously consistent with Elmer's Glue.

"Everything okay?" Julie asked.

He nodded. "I was about to ask you the same thing. You've been quiet tonight."

She shrugged one shoulder and shook her hair out of her face before fixing him with a look.

He smiled. "That looks like a reporter face."

"Am I that easy to see through?"

He brushed her calf with his foot, and his smile was a slow burn. "You're many things, Pixie, but easy and transparent ain't two of them. But I can tell you have questions, so just ask them."

Julie rested her fork on the table and for a minute, he had the crazy idea that she was going to pick up a notebook and start scribbling notes. "The problem is, Jax, I don't know where to start with these questions. I've been gathering information, but the story just isn't taking shape. And I've been thinking that there are bigger issues at play, a narrative engine that I can't even guess at."

Now it was his turn to shrug. "So what are you thinking?"

"I guess what I wonder most of all is when the club went wrong? When Tim and I left, you were trying to make changes."

"Change don't come easy. And sometimes, it seems like things don't want to be changed. Like the universe has its own sick sense of humor and twisted way of pushing back ten times harder to keep things from changing for the better."

"So why didn't you leave?"

Jax pushed his stool back from the island, so he could lean his back against the wall. He knew Julie wasn't crazy about smoking in her apartment, but he lit a cigarette anyway. As the smoke hit his lungs, he closed his eyes and tried to steady his heartbeat. He'd heard no accusation in her question, but he could feel defensiveness rising in him.

"You know I did 14 months with most of the club, on a weapons charge?" He paused and looked over at her. She nodded, so he continued. "I missed Thomas being born. I nearly died inside too, and all I could think about was how I couldn't do this to my boys. I'd get out, make bank, then take my family and leave.

"The day I got out, me and Tara talked about it. We made plans. The almighty exit plan," he laughed bitterly and exhaled a stream of smoke.

"Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans," said Julie, a note of sad empathy in her voice.

"Life is what happens to normal people. Fucking chaos is what happens to me. Like karma on speed coming to fuck up everything, every goddamn time. But the worst...until Tara.. the worst was Opie. I had to stand there and watch him die, and the only promise I could make to him and to myself was that I wouldn't let that death be for nothing. I was going to turn the club around, make things right once and for all, for Ope."

Jax stood up and walked over to the sink. He pinched out his cigarette, then ran it under cold water and dropped it in the trash can. He turned around and leaned against the counter. Julie was still sitting at the island, watching him silently. He could see why she was so good at her job. The silence stretched between them, but he felt like she was giving him the space to tell the story his way.

"I was going to get us out of guns, drugs, turn everything legit. Take revenge where it needed to be done, but smart, careful, surgical even. Turning the club back into what it was supposed to be – that was the only way that I could make Opie's death mean something. But what they say is right. Karma is a bitch and she just loves to laugh and fuck it all up."

Jax went to the fridge and took out two bottles of beer. He uncapped them and passed one to Julie before he sat back down at the island. He drained half the beer, then looked Julie, who was picking at the edges of the label of her bottle.

"So, what do you think?" he asked.

"About what?"

"This mess I'm in. I know that telling your opinion isn't usually part of your job, but this isn't work. This is two friends talking."

Julie took a deep breath. She had the look of someone about to cross a minefield. He looked down at his beer bottle to take the pressure off her.

"You ever hear of the sunk costs fallacy?" She asked, her tone tentative and cautious.

He shook his head.

"It's a principle in economics. A sunk cost is something that you've already done, money that you've already spent. If the investment doesn't pay off the way you expected, the rational decision is to not look at the money that's already been spent – it's to weigh the future costs against the benefit and risks. You have to draw a line over what's already been spent and disregard that, because the money is already gone."

"I'm afraid you've lost me. Remember, I'm a mechanic with a GED."

Julie rolled her eyes. "You're one of the smartest guys I know, but if you want to hear this as a mechanical allegory. Say you have 5-year old car that has the radiator go. You put $300 into fixing it. A little while later, something else breaks and it's going to be $500 to fix it. You shouldn't think about the $300 that you've already spent, because that's gone. Spending the $500 isn't going to get the $300 back, so you should only fix the latest problem if you're relatively sure that the car is in good shape and you've just had a run of back luck. If the car has fundamental problems, there's no point in pouring more money into it. The more rational decision is to think about using the $500 for the down payment on a new car."

Jax felt his grip tightening on his beer bottle as his cheeks burned. "That's an interesting theory, but I wasn't talking about crappy cars and money. This was somebody's life. A guy I loved like a brother who gave his life to protect me. I can't walk away after that."

Julie looked away. "You asked what I thought," she finally said quietly.

"I don't run when things get tough." His tone was rough, a challenge to contradict him, to accuse him. But he knew that Julie would never say the words that echo every day in his head. _iIf you'd run when you had the chance, you'd still have a wife. Your boys would still have a mother.i/_

"This is just two friends talking, right?" she asked.

He nodded, forcing his hands to relinquish their death grip on his beer bottle. He blew a sigh out of pursed lips and felt the tension leave his body.

"Loss can make people irrational. And irrational people make bad decisions. It's a really human flaw. But when you know that's the case, you can try to focus on what's actually important and not get blinded by your pain. That's what I'm telling you, as a friend."

"So you think I fucked up out of grief over Opie and now Tara's death, regardless of who did it, is on me."

Julie shook her head. "I didn't say that."

"No," said Jax, regret weighing the word down. "I did. Every goddamn minute of every goddamn day since I picked my wife off the floor, that's what I've said. But sometimes, there's no making something right."

Julie got up from her stool and came around the island. He tried to turn away from her, but she caught him and just held him. Jax was too tired and worn down inside to cry, but he wished he was still capable of that kind of normal reaction. He stood up and pressed a chaste kiss onto the top of Julie's forehead.

"I'm sorry. I can't be here right now," he said, voice husky and raw. He left before she could say anything and didn't look up at her window as put his helmet on and then drove away.

–/-


	9. Chapter 9

Julie finished washing the dishes and wrung out the dishcloth extra hard. She sighed and pressed the base of her palm against her forehead. She was exhausted and frustrated, in all sense of the word. She'd hoped for a quiet evening with Jax, making out on the couch and possibly maybe even letting things get a little out of hand.

After her talk with Lyla, she really wanted to shut off her brain, and Jax was usually a good option for that. But it was clear from the start that both their brains were working overtime. And then they'd had that disastrous conversation that had ended with Jax leaving. Half of her wanted to pack her bags and head back to the cabin on the border.

She headed back to her bedroom with the thoughts of a shower and sleeping until the morning, but she was interrupted by the strange trilling sound of the strange little phone that Alec had given her. She found the phone tucked safely in the bottom of a shoebox in her dresser.

"Alec?" she asked.

"Who else would it be? You're not giving this number out, are you?" He asked.

"Of course not, I don't even know the number." Julie smiled. Something about Alec always put her at ease. She sometimes wished she could sit down and have a few beers, or orange sodas, with the guy and get to know him better. She was sure that he definitely had some stories to tell.

"So, I found your friend-of-a-friend. You're going to have to move fast, though. He's booked for 4 days of tattoo removal at a shady place in New Orleans, then my best evidence suggests that he's heading out as crew on a container ship."

"Shit," muttered Julie, trying to work out distances and figure out how much her bank balance could handle last-minute plane tickets.

"You know, you tell me what you need to know, I could have someone ask the questions for you."

"Thanks, Alec, but that's not going to work. I need to talk to him, to see his face."

"At least let me send someone with you. I don't think you should be talking to this guy alone."

Julie frowned. As much as she wanted to get to know Alec, she didn't know him as well as she felt she needed to if she was going to work with him like this.

"It's okay. I know someone who can help me."

"It's not your presidential pal, is it? Because I don't think that's the best idea in the world."

"I'm not stupid. Thanks for getting me this far."

"Sure, call if you need anything. I'm sure our paths will cross again sooner or later. Look after yourself, girl."

Alec disconnected the call. Julie tucked the phone away in the secret pocket of her extra-large backpack. With one hand, she grabbed clothes and stuffed them into the bag. With the other, she dialed a number that she'd known by heart for years.

-/-

Tim walked into the office of Riggins Riggs and found Billy rubbing his eyes and yawning at the computer screen. At least that was an improvement over a few weeks ago when they'd first gotten the computer.

"How do accountants not just kill themselves? Keeping the books is so damn boring," complained Billy.

Tim smiled. "At least you're not swearing and kicking the computer anymore."

"I'm not that old of a dog. I can still learn a new trick or two."

"So, uh, Billy," said Tim as he slid his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. "I know this is bad timing and short notice and all, but I need the next few days off."

"You're right, Tim. This is really bad timing. We're stupid-busy for the next week or two. Can't this wait?"

Tim shook his head and looked down. "No, it has to be right away. Sorry, Billy. You know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."

"What's this about that's so god-almighty important that you're going to drop everything and run out on your job.

Tim felt his cheeks burn and he opened his mouth, but he couldn't make the words come out.

Billy sighed. "It's Julie Taylor, isn't it? What, she's sick of that motorcycle jerk and so she's snapped her fingers and you're going running to get her out of there? Is that it?"

"No, not quite."

"So she's still with that guy? You've gotta be kidding me. Let him drop everything and help her."

"Billy, it's not that simple. She needs me to help her. I already said yes, so I'm not really asking for permission here."

"Little brother, I can't decide if you're a saint or an idiot."

"I'm sure you've already made up your mind about that, Billy."

Tim turned to leave before his brother could take anymore cheap shots.

"Tim, wait. I just hate to see you letting a girl mess you up so bad, that's all. You know your job will still be here. Just be careful and don't be gone too long, all right?"

Tim looked up and nodded. He knew he was crazy and stupid to drop everything and go on a 12-hour road trip with Julie, but he also knew that he was the only person she would ever ask. And for that reason, and a few others he didn't like to think about, he would do it.

-/-

Tim having returned from getting them food from a rinky dink diner can hear water running and he knows but refuses to acknowledge he should leave it alone instead he walked over and opened the door. An old restless heart song blares from the speaker set next to her phone. He reaches over and turns it down as it switches to a sad song by The Civil Wars.

The current whips back and she stands there startled with soap in her hair and water clings to her eye lashes and for a solid minute he's sure he's stopped breathing.

"You scared me." She says softly.

"Sorry baby."

"I'd ask if you need something but your face says enough."

He's kicking off his boots. "Jules, I ain't feelin' too gentlemanly , I've missed you, missed touching you . if you don't want this to go anywhere, tell me now."

She stepped back. "Hurry before the water turns cold." He leaves his clothes piled next to hers in the floor.

He stepped under the spray water hitting him in the face as he leaned in to kiss her, he smiled againist her mouth as she gasped and kissed him back. Her mind might be jumbled and confused but her body knew what it wanted same as his.

"Tim, what about?-" "I'm tired of being the good guy who does everything right and gets nothing back and right now all I want is five guilt free minutes with you! That's it, I deserve that."

"Okay, whatever happens is between us alone." She stood on her tip toes and kissed him. He pulled her flush to him and kissed her back.

"Now, tell me how the book is going and I'll wash your back and a few other interesting places."

"Timothy!"

"The loofa and book news babe." She tossed the red fluff ball at him.

"It's slow going…" she sighed as he swept the loofa down her back.

"Why?" he asked. He pressed his lips to the soft crook of her neck and enjoyed the feel of a shiver going through her at his touch.

"My thoughts don't translate as well as I'd hoped."

"You'll get there you always do." He brushed the loofa down her side and along the curve of her breast where "To honor God." The meaning of his name is tattooed.

He smiled thinking back to getting drunk with Tyra and Landry on 6th street. He'd wanted to get her name tattooed down his arm. She'd balked saying it was bad luck until he mentioned the meaning loophole. "Youthful." Is written in Julie's own hand on his arm.

She turns in his arms. "Why're you so good to me Tim? You didn't have to come with me or be this patient."

"It's simple Julie. You are mine, I'm yours. I love you."

"I don't deserve that."

"That's why true love is unconditional Baby." She kissed him. It lit the fire behind all the gentle touching. He lifted her off her feet and she wrapped around him. Just as he's about to bury himself inside her the water goes icy cold.

She shrieked. "Mother fucker…" he swore putting her down as they scurried out.

She laughed laying towel clad on the bed. "I'm sorry, Tim."

"Don't be, if it was meant too it'd have happened." He leaned over and kissed her a final time.

-/-

AN: We own nothing! If you like it review!


	10. Chapter 10

The next morning, they drove to New Orleans in silence, the only sound in the car coming from the tinny speakers as Julie played her favorite playlist in the hopes that the music would calm her nerves and clear her mind. Instead, her thoughts kept pinging between the shower with Tim and the logistics of trying to find Juice. She hadn't even let herself think about what she was going to say to him.

"Uh, Julie, I think your bag is buzzing," said Tim, snapping her out of her thoughts. Julie looked into lap and saw her backpack vibrate. She pulled out the little phone from Alec. On the screen was a text. She opened it and saw a map and a short message: "He'll be here for a couple of hours. Don't worry, the receptionist is cool."

Julie smiled to herself and put the phone back into the secret pocket of her backpack. She put the address into the GPS app on her phone, fidgeting as they drove the last 20 minutes to the place where Juice was having his tattoos removed.

Tim found a parking space on the street and undid his seatbelt.

"I think you better stay in the truck, Tim," said Julie, hating the hurt look on his face.

"Like hell."

"I don't want you to spook him."

"I'm not going to spook anyone. He won't even see me. I'll wait outside the door, once I see that where you're going is safe."

Julie looked at the cluster of teenagers selling drugs on the corner and felt an odd mixture of relief and annoyance. "You know I managed to live on the street for months without you looking over my shoulder."

"Yeah. Don't mean I liked one minute of it though."

Julie sighed, got out of the truck, and stalked into the building without bothering to check that Tim was following her. She easily found the office she needed, which was at the end of a narrow, dimly lit corridor. She pushed open the door so that Tim could see the empty waiting room and the bored looking purple-haired receptionist. Tim brushed past Julie and sat down on one of the rickety metal chairs, folding his arms and giving Julie a look that was mostly a dare to throw him out.

Julie rolled her eyes and approached the receptionist, who gave her an impish grin that was unnerving in its familiarity. But Julie pushed on with her question before she spent too much time trying to think of how in the world she might know this woman.

"Hi there, I'm looking for a friend of mine. He's getting a bunch of motorcycle tattoos removed. He said he was going to be here and that I could drop by and keep him company."

The girl snapped her chewing gum and nodded. "Oh yeah, he's in that door. I think he's having a rest before they start on the back removal, so I'm sure he'll be happy for company."

Julie walked toward the door that the girl had gestured to and took a deep breath. She pushed open the door and found a small room with a treatment table in the middle. Juice was laying there, face up and eyes closed.

"I'm alone, Juice, I just need information."

Juice jumped up off the table into a defensive crouch, his eyes wild. "Pixie?"

His tone was confused, but his body was still tense.

"Like I said, Juice, I just need some information. No one from the club knows that I'm here."

The door pushed open and betrayal washed across Juice's face, but it was just the receptionist. "Just checking that you're okay in here. Need any drinks or anything?"

Juice shook his head and leaned back against the wall. "We're fine, thanks."

Julie held her breath until the door was closed, hoping that the right words would come.

"I don't care about anything else, Juice, but Jax needs to know who killed Tara. Nobody seems to know anything."

"Then why do you think that I'd know anything?"

"You ran."

Juice ran a hand over his face and then threw is growing-out hair. "Yeah, but that had nothing to do with Tara."

"No? What if I told you that the DA has traffic camera footage of you leaving Jax's neighborhood at the estimated time of Tara's death?" It was a bluff, and a dirty trick, and something that she'd never had done as a journalist. But Julie had plenty of hunches about this one and not enough time to coax information out of him question by painstaking question.

Juice's shoulders slumped and Julie knew her hunch had been right. He'd been there, been involved somehow, even though she couldn't square Juice with the violent murder of a woman who'd never been anything but kind to him.

"Does Jax know about that?"

Julie shook her head. "No. He only deals with the DA through his lawyer and she's pissed he won't talk to her. I've been doing my own investigation."

"Why did you go back there, Pixie? You were free and clear. You were one of the lucky ones who managed to escape unscathed."

"You first, Juice. Tell me what you know. I don't believe you had anything to do with what happened, but when Jax finds out about the traffic camera footage, you know he might jump to the wrong conclusion."

Juice's laugh was small and bitter. "Then you can add it to the long list of reasons that he already has for wanting to kill me."

"Juice, come on. Someone is getting away with murdering an old lady. That can't be sitting right with you, whatever problems you might have with the club."

Juice folded his arms and closed his eyes. "How did you find me anyway?"

"I'm friends with a hacker. One of the best. You can keep running, but I'll keep finding you. Also, it just so happens that I know your brother."

Juice's smile was small and rueful. "My brother in Seattle."

Julie nodded. "I promised him that I'd do what I could to keep you safe. And this is what I'm going to do. Keep finding you and badgering you until you tell me what you know."

"And then what?" asked Juice.

"Depends what it is. The general outline of the plan though is that I bring the info to Jax, and it helps him get some closure."

"Closure is overrated. And impossible." Juice's eyes were bright and dark, not quite angry but animated in a way that Julie had never seen.

"Just tell me, Juice. I'm ridiculously patient and persistent." Julie leaned back against the door and forced herself to be more relaxed that she felt. She counted backwards from 100. When she got to 37, Juice sighed.

"You're really not going away."

"I'm really not," she confirmed.

"Fine. I went over there, looking for Gemma. Everyone knew that Jax was making a deal on the gun charges to save Tara and the club. Roosevelt, the sheriff, was there. You never met him, but he was kind of a bastard. He went into the house, and I followed him in. I heard Gemma telling him that Tara had ratted, that she'd just done what she had to do to protect her family. Roosevelt was getting ready to call it in, so I took him out, then took the evidence."

"Gemma?" asked Julie. She'd always been a little intimidated of the woman, but murdering her own daughter-in-law seemed like something out of a crazy soap opera.

Juice nodded. "I helped her get cleaned up and got her out of there. She'd been driving Unser's truck. I dumped the evidence in a few dumpsters off of Main Street and then I headed up toward Seattle. Is Gemma okay?"

Julie bit back the reflex to snap at him. "She's fine, like nothing had ever happened. Juice, you have to go the police."

"I'm not a rat."

"No, rats are smart animals," said Julie, anger rising in her voice. "Gemma is walking around like Grandmother of the Year. You think she ever gives you a second thought? She'd throw you under the bus in a heartbeat. If I were you, I'd get myself to the DA as soon as possible and get my story on the record. If a shred of evidence ever points her way, she'll be finding a way to put everything on you. Or she'll tell Jax that you confessed to her when she stopped by to pick something up. Juice, it is beyond stupid to be an accessory to that woman."

Juice's smile was small and sad. "I'll take my chances."

They were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. The receptionist stuck her head in. "Sorry, but his next session needs to start soon. I can get you a chair if you want to keep him company."

"She's said all that she needs to, thanks," said Juice. He waited to speak again until the receptionist was gone. "No offense, Pixie, but I hope I never see you again."

"That depends on you. Get yourself to the DA, and your problems with me are over."

"I'll think about that kind offer," said Juice grimly as he laid down on the table.

"You're leaving on a container ship in two days. You picked up some fake papers. Pablo Ortega. I'm not sure the name suits you at all."

Juice sat bolt upright and stared at her.

"I told you I had a hacker friend. I wasn't lying when I said he was the best. I can find you and keep finding you and keep finding you."

Juice sighed, the sound of resignation hissing out of his body like air out of a balloon. "You've already shown yourself to be stubborn and persistent. You're never going to stop, are you?"

"No. And I think if you consider all the angles, you'll realize that getting yourself to the DA is your only hope. You only say what you saw with Tara and cop to Roosevelt. I think I can get Jax to leave you alone as long as you don't do anything to hurt the club. Don't be stupid, Juice."

He dropped back onto the table. "I hope you're not overestimating your sway with Jax."

"Bye, Juice," said Julie, pulling the door open. She hoped she wasn't overestimating either, but she'd never tell him that.

"I hope you run while you have the chance. You always seemed like too good a person for Jax and Charming."

Julie tried to shake off his words as she stepped out into the waiting room. The receptionist beckoned her over and slid an airline ticket over to her. "Our mutual friend said that you're in rush, and you better fly back. Your flight leaves in three hours, so you better hurry."

"Thank him for me, please."

"Will do. And don't worry about Juice. He's going to see sense soon. I can feel it."

Julie smiled and left, brushing past Tim on her way out into the dim hallway. When they got to the outside door, it was pulled open by a rumpled-looking man who was with a woman who was glamorous looking even in a hideous pants suit. They were having a bored and casual argument. The man winked at her, and Julie walked through the door, feeling that a certain guardian angel hacker was definitely looking out for her.

-/-/-

Julie waited for Tim to unlock the door of the truck and then climbed in, wincing as he slammed the door behind her. She took deep breaths to steady herself while he walked around the side of the truck, kicking gravel and refusing to make eye contact with her. He climbed up into the cab and roughly turned the key, the engine stuttering and complaining as it whirred into action.

"So, you get what you came looking for?"

Julie swallowed hard and nodded.

"You going to tell me?"

She felt the secret inside of her, nearly burning her heart with its intensity and power to destroy. She didn't even want to say the words, hear them out loud again, realize what it was going to do to Jax. She shook her head and looked away. "Change of plans though. I need to go to the airport."

She heard Tim sigh and thought she caught him mutter "You've got to be kidding me." But he put the car in reverse and eased out of the parking space and into traffic without another word.

After a long stretch of no conversation, unless you counted Tim grunting in displeasure every five minutes, Julie cracked.

"What, Tim?"

"What was the point of me bein' here Jules? You clearly didn't want me for anything at all. Did you just wanna make sure you still had your hooks in me? Newsflash Taylor, I will always love you, but my world does not revolve around you."

Julie sighed and looked out the window. "I don't want to fight with you."

Tim drummed on the steering wheel. "I took money we both know I didn't have to spend to come here with you and you shove me back in the closet with all your small town Texan skeletons."

"Okay, Tim. I admit I was maybe selfish and frightened. Having you along made me feel less scared. If the money's a problem, I can send you a check."

"It's not about the money. Don't make this about one simple thing when we both know what's going on here."

Julie felt a flash of anger surge through her. It was better and easier than feeling bad about dragging him on this goose chase. "What what's going on here, Tim?"

"I am over being made to feel as if I'm too simple for the smart girl."

"Tim I just-"

He cut her off, as angry as she'd ever seen him. A few weeks worth of anger surged out of him. She could almost see it filling the car like a toxic cloud. "For someone so smart, Jax makes you fucking stupid. You think I don't know what you're doing? I do, and it's going to get you killed because clearly that is all that man succeeds at. History don't change, you used to know that."

"Tim," she fought to keep her voice level. "He's so lost, I just want to help."

His laugh was small and bitter. "You can't fix what's born corrupted, baby."

"People used to say similar things about you and look how you turned out. I know Jax, and I know-" Her sentence was cut short by Tim's heavy fist pounding on the dashboard. She looked over to see him running a hand through his hair.

"You know the lie Jax wants you to see. What happens when you tell him the horrible thing you know? He's ten times as destrustive as I have ever been. And whatever big secret you just found out, I might not know exactly what it is, but I bet that it's big and it's bad and it's the kinda thing that burns down lives. I can see that much in your eyes."

"I never meant for everything to spin out of control so fast. I never in a million years meant to devalue this thing we have, Tim. I never meant to cheapen it or use you. You make me feel safe and missed you that's all, even all this I miss you."

"I miss you too but if there's one thing I know is you can't live on old glories Jules. So figure out what you want and how you want it and get back to me. Because even though I might always love you, I can't wait around for you forever."

Julie felt his final words like the slam of a door shutting. She didn't know if she could get the door open again. And she suddenly found that she was too tired and overwhelmed to think about it any more. She leaned her head against the passenger window and tried not to cry.

-/-/-/-

The whole way home, Julie's thoughts twisted up and turned over on the topic of how to tell Jax his mother murdered his high school sweet heart and wife. Tim's words echoed in her mind. She drove by Jax's four times but she couldn't pull in, instead she ended up at the cemetery where all of Jax's dead are clumped together like some ghoulish clique.

Julie traced her fingers over the new gravestone. Wife and mother.

"I don't really no why I am here. We both know there was real no love lost between us but I figured out your mystery and I know who killed you. I want to find justice for you, but that's just my Daddy in me. There's right and wrong and nothing is gray."

Julie eased herself down so her back was resting against the stone. She was careful to keep herself off the grave itself. "That's all Jax is though gray, tired washed out grayness. I'm not sure how to tell him. He said he wanted justice for your sweet boys and I hope that's still true when he knows the monster living under his roof is very real and someone he loves."

"I just wanted you to know your truth is known. I respect your place in his heart. I'd never try to change it. Just know if I can't get Gemma behind bars, I will get Jax and your boys away from her so that you may rest in some semblance of peace." Julie stood up and brushed the leaves off her jeans. She walked to her car, giving herself no more excuses or time to think. It was time to tell Jax the cold-hearted, murderous truth.


	11. Chapter 11

AN: We own nothing. Sorry for the long wait life got in the way. Tell us what you think!-Lost Verse Writing Twam

ulie parked a block away from Jax's house and used the walk to gather her thoughts and her courage. Her mama always said to get the truth out as quickly as possible, because it couldn't possibly be as bad as what the other person would be imagining and worrying about. But Julie thought she had finally found the one case where Tami Taylor was not right. She could not imagine what Jax could think of that would be worse than his mother killing his wife. That right there was Shakespearean tragedy.

The walk up to Jax's front door went much faster than she wanted, and suddenly Jax was opening the door, his smile warm and genuine. "Pixie, I wasn't expecting you back for a few days. Trip led to nothing, huh?"

She wished that she could freeze this moment in amber and keep it forever. She knew that she was about to destroy what remained of his world. She forced herself to smile, then kissed him.

"I wish I could say I'm back because I missed you. But I'm back with really bad news, Jax." She stepped past him into the house. He followed her and shut the door behind them. She knew that she didn't want him that close to the door, so she grabbed his hand and pulled him further into the living room.

"Who did it?" The question was more of a demand, and Julie could see his whole body tensing, coiling like a rattler that was fixing to strike.

"Roosevelt brought Tara back to the house. Unser's truck was out front. Tara went into the house, thinking Unser was at the house. But it was Gemma, who didn't know about your deal and thought Tara had ratted you out. Jax, I'm so sorry." Julie stepped forward and put her hands on his chest, but he turned away, his hands on his face.

"I'm going to kill her. You stay here," his voice was a guttural growl as he pushed past her. Julie grabbed his arm, and he threw his elbow back to shake her off, his momentum carrying his arm backward until it crashed it Julie's face. She tasted blood on her lip, but held on, digging her heels into the carpet.

Jax let out an exasperated sigh and turned around, grabbing Julie by her shoulders. "Can you just, this once, do what you're told? I need to go talk to Gemma."

"I don't trust you to just talk. You're going to make a terrible mistake." Julie felt tears welling up, but she blinked hard and willed them away. A small and quiet part of her understood that Jax had probably killed before, but she knew that this situation was different. The anger and vengeance would consume him, and there'd be no way back to any normal life.

"I have to go."

"What about your boys? What about Tara? Is this what she wanted? For the violence to continue forever?"

"Don't say her name to me. Not now. Just stay here." Jax's tone was an angry hiss that promised repercussions if she disobeyed. But Julie had never been able to stand idly by when something important was at stake. She rushed past him and stood in front of the door.

His smile was small and grim. "Pix, please. Don't make me hurt you."

Julie said nothing, and when Jax approached the door, she pushed him back. He came back at her angrily, and although she was scared, she did the only thing she could think of – she launched herself at him and kissed him as hard as she could while her hands fumbled at his belt. She felt him holding back for a long moment, resisting, a low, sad chuckle sounding from deep in his throat. But then she had his zipper down and her hand on his cock, and he couldn't help but respond.

He shoved her hard against the door, pinning her hard with his shoulders while his hands worked at the zipper of her pants. His kisses were edgy and angry, and she felt like she might never catch her breath. He pushed into her without warning, before she was ready for him, and the shock caused her to yelp, but he just pushed harder. But there would be no stopping him, she understood that and she wished, more than anything, that she could take away all of his pain and anger.

He set what she could only call a punishing pace but she was soon swept up in what it felt like to be with Jax. All the heat, brute strength, and fierceness she'd long missed. The way he filled up the holes in her that ached for something unsafe. His body was heavy against hers and just as she started to fear that her legs might buckle, he roughly grabbed her waist and lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around him, just riding the waves that he created and trying not to think too much about whether her desperation from preventing him from making a mistake had just created a different mistake in the book of her life.

She felt him finish with a shudder and they both sunk slowly to the ground, collapsing into a tangled heap against the bottom of the door. He untangled himself and edged into the corner, sitting with his back against the wall and his elbows on his knees, his forehead resting on his arms as he breathed heavily. Julie slid next to him, sat up, and gently touched his shoulder.

He shook his head and turned away. His shoulders shook, and she put her arms around him, refusing to let him slip away. She only relaxed when he finally relented and leaned into her. She didn't know if his shaking was from anger, exertion, or tears, and she didn't want to know. She breathed him in: leather, cinnamon gum and pot smoke.

She lost track of how long they spent on the floor, not talking, but she eventually began to fear that Abel might find them there. She stood up and pulled him into the bedroom, keeping the lights off so they didn't have to face each other. He climbed wordless into bed and fell asleep almost immediately.

Julie was sore and exhausted but unable to quiet her mind enough to sleep. She knew that he wss angry and hurt and just trying to bury it all in her. She let him because the anger felt like passion, and her desperation felt like love. In this moment, the fact the world was falling a part didn't matter because being with him felt good and right. She was no longer the little girl afraid of being in love with Jax Teller anymore. She knew she could handle whatever came next, but she didn't think that staying in Charming should be part of those plans.

She stared at the ceiling and tried to figure out how to save Jax from this life.


	12. Chapter 12

Julie wasn't sure when she finally fell asleep, but it was after nine when she woke up from a dream of being trapped in a burning building. She gave her self-conscious props for being obvious, then looked over to the other side of the bed, which was empty except for a tangle of blankets.

She took a deep breath to steady her rising sense of dread. Jax was volatile in the moment, but she hoped that after the initial shock and anger wore off, he'd be able to think more strategically. Her dad said that things always looked different in the morning, but somehow a lost game of high school football paled in comparison to the implosion of a guy's life and family.

Sitting up slowly, Julie felt an achy tiredness in all of her muscles. She stretched, but still felt like someone who'd come up worse for wear in a collision. The house was quiet, which did nothing for her worry. She stood up straight and walked out into the hallway, treading quietly on bare feet.

Jax was sitting at the kitchen table, smoking. The ashtray in front of him was full. His bouncing leg was the only sign of agitation that Julie could see. He was looking down at his hands. She stood in the doorway for several minutes, barely breathing, trying to assess the situation. But she was a writer, not a mind-reader, although a couple of her sources would've said otherwise.

She walked into the kitchen and sat down across the table from him. He looked up at her, his gaze level and open. Julie could see more feelings than she could easily name, and she felt like she was looking right into his soul. She didn't say anything, waiting for him to speak and feeling like the time she woke up in a gutterpunk campsite to see a young fox scavenging in their garbage. All she could do was watch and hope she didn't scare him away.

"Thank you," Jax said finally, his tone sincere and expressive. "I cannot imagine the kind of courage it took for you to walk in here and tell me that."

Julie looked down. "You're welcome. You needed to know the truth."

Jax reached across the table and took her hand. "A truth like that must be damn near impossible to carry."

Julie managed a half-shrug and looked up at him through her bangs. "So...you're up early."

"I woke up around dawn and couldn't sleep. Spent some time with the boys then asked Aleta to get them, take Abel to school and look after Thomas. I needed to clear my head. I've got a lot to think about."

She nodded but stayed quiet and still, which she had always found to be the best tool in her journalist bag of tricks.

"I've got some club business to take care of in Stockton, then I want to spend some time with you. We've got a lot to talk about."

Julie felt a complicated mix of distrust and unease rise in the back of her throat, but she pushed it down. "Yeah, okay. I'll go back to my place. I've got some work to do."

Jax stood up and came around the table. "You can stay here, if you want."

"That's okay. I work better in my cave." Julie tried to keep her tone light. The truth was, she couldn't bring herself to stay alone in Jax's place with the ghost of Tara and the threat of Gemma hanging over the kitchen.

Jax leaned down a pressed a kiss on the top of her head, then whispered another quiet word of thanks into her ear. She closed her eyes for a moment and tried to believe that there was a way forward for them.

-/-

Jax spent most of the morning trying to act normal when inside, he felt a storm raging. His nearly overriding impulse was to find Gemma, but he knew that seeing her at this point would only end one way. And he was determined that his boys not lose their only remaining parent.

After Stockton, Jax sent a reluctant Chibs away and went for a ride to clear his mind. He rode without thinking about his route, heading south on the 5. Around Kettleman City, he realized that he was half-way to Los Angeles and that he should probably turn around and go home.

Home seemed like such a messed up concept. His wife was gone. His mother was as good as dead to him. What kind of home had he created for his boys? How were they going to grow up? He remembered the time they'd tried to leave together. He remembered telling Tara to take them and go as far away as she could. It seemed like every attempt he made to change the direction of their lives, it all went to shit.

The closer he got to Charming, the sicker he felt. He knew that the only cure was going to be leaving the only hometown he'd ever known and starting a new life somewhere else. And he had to hope that the third time was lucky, because he couldn't keep doing this.

The sun had already set when he arrived behind the barber shop. He sat on his bike for a minute, looking up at Julie's windows, which were dark. He half-expected to go upstairs and find her stuff gone. He took off his helmet and balanced it on a handle, then went up the rickety stairs, each step making his stomach feel even more sick.

He knocked on the door, hard, and tried the knob, but it was locked. He knocked a few more times and was about to leave when he heard a rustle behind the door. He could picture Julie standing on her tiptoes to peer through the peephole, and he smiled.

"It's Jax," he said, just to put her mind at ease.

She opened the door, and her eyes had the heavy, sad look of recent crying. She reached out a hand and pulled him in, then shut the door behind him. He put her arms around her and squeezed, breathing in her citrusy shampoo. His eyes closed, and he realized that anywhere with her could be home, if he let that happen.

He pulled back first, then she stepped back and walked into the living room, which was lit only by the streetlights outside.

"You forget to pay the electric bill?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light.

Julie shook her head and sat down on the couch. "I needed to do some thinking."

"I hear that," he replied, breathing out a deep sigh as he sat down on the other end of the couch, one leg bent underneath him so he could face her while they talked. But neither of them said anything, and the long minutes stretched out between them. He could see her stealing looks at him from underneath the safety of her hair, and he had a feeling that she was working up to saying something.

"I expected you'd be back sooner," she finally said.

"I took a ride to clear my head. Was halfway to Los Angeles before I turned around."

"Did it help?"

"I guess it did. It made one thing perfectly clear though. I need to take my boys and get out of here."

"Are you walking away from your club or are you taking them with you too?"

Jax looked away. "I don't know... What was that thing you said, that economic thing?"

"Sunk costs."

Jax repeated the words, and they made so much sense to him. He'd felt like he was drowning for months, and now he could see the dead bodies and the sunk coasts like a shipwreck on the ocean floor, and two of those bodies, Opie and Tara, were constantly breaking his heart.

"Charming needs to be in my rearview, as soon as possible. If, and it's a big if, some part of the club survives with me, it's going to be completely different. More in line with what my dad was trying to do. Nothing dangerous or stupid."

Even though he couldn't see her face, he could see her relief in the relaxing of her body, all the tension draining away as she breathed out.

"And do you have any definite plan or a destination?"

Jax shook his head and smiled sadly. "This place is all I've ever really known. I've never spent more than a week anywhere else. Tara wanted to go up north, to Oregon, but that's because she had a job offer."

"You could go back to Dillon with me. I'm already going to be moving into my parents' house. They've been trying to sell it for two years, but the housing market is pretty bad. You and the boys can come with me. I know some people, can probably find you a mechanic job somewhere."

Jax had suspected that she might make this offer. And he still didn't know if it was right to take it. He reached out and took her hand.

"This change isn't going to be easy," he said. "Don't feel like you have to take us with you."

"Jax, I thought about this all day. It's the right thing to do for so many reasons. But I know I can't save you. You have to be all in on this."

He smiled, thinking of the number of times that he had given the "all-in" speech to prospects and newly patched members. "I get that. And I'm going to try my best. For the boys. And for us."

Julie lifted her chin so he could finally see her face. "When do we leave?"

"Soon," he said, trying to sound more sure than he felt. He leaned forward and kissed her gently, hoping that the talking could be done for now.

-/-

The next morning, Julie was woken by a knocking on the door and a familiar Scottish accent shouting for Jax.

"I think it's for you," she murmured sleepily as Jax rolled out of bed to see what Chibs needed. While he was gone, Julie tried to wake up, but she felt like she was digging out from under tons of wet sand. She'd had a hard time falling asleep because her mind wouldn't stop whirring. How were they going to get to Dillon? How long would her book money keep them going? Where could she find Jax a job?

She knew she could freelance for a while, probably with minimal travel, but taking care of the boys could complicate things. But as much as her mind was spinning, she resolved to stay strong and calm for Jax and the boys. Her dad always said that things had a way of working themselves out, and Julie had to believe that was true.

Jax came in and sat down on her side of the bed. He gently brushed the hair off her face.

"I'm really sorry about this, but I've got to go take care of something."

"Something," Julie echoed, sounding dubious.

"Yeah, something. But it's nothing that you have to worry about. And Chibs is going to stay here with you until I get back."

Julie sat up. "I'll be fine. I don't need anyone here. I don't want anyone here when I'm working."

"Then he can stay outside. But he stays here. As long as Gemma is still out there, I'll feel better if I know you're protected." He leaned forward and kissed her, then pulled her into a warm hug.

Jax left a few minutes later. Julie could hear Chibs in the kitchen, humming to himself quietly. She knew there was no way she was going to get any work done today. All she had left was one last chapter and a final edit. It could probably wait one more day.

She got dressed quickly then went into the kitchen, walking barefoot and quietly. She had the fridge door open before Chibs startled.

"Jaysus, Jax said you're stealthy, but he massively undersold it."

"Have you had breakfast yet?" asked Julie, pulling out eggs and milk. It felt like a pancake sort of day, so she grabbed the butter, and then got the flour out of the cupboard.

"Jax isn't built like your Timmy, love." He lit a cigarette and inhaled.

"I know where they're same and different, Chibs. I've always known," she said, not looking up from the pancake batter.

He exhaled and flicked the ash into an over-turned bottle cap."Which is why you left Charming in the first place, sweetheart."

Hearing Chibs speak that specific truth made her angry. "Do you want Jax to kill someone he loves? Because that's what'll happen, he'll kill her and that guilt will burn away anything good in him."

"Maybe you're right, but you can't expect a leopard to change his spots. If he's capable of doing that in Charming, what makes you think that he's going to be any different in Texas. Or New York City. Or Timbuktu?"

"I know none of you believe me but I love him, I love him and I can't watch him disappear, bit by bit. I can't!" Tears started to fill her eyes. "You can't tell me you want that to happen to him! I know you love him, Chibs."

"As if he were my own flesh and blood, and no I don't want to see any of that but if you take the boy outta Charming, you can't leech away the poison that's in him with southern charm and distance from what haunts him. Vengeance and spilling blood is all he knows. Eventually, he will give in to it.

For some odd reason Julie suddenly pictured herself like a lion tamer trying to hold a beast in it's cage. "You make him sound like a sociopath. There's good in him."

Chibs stood, walked over , and handed her a bandana to mop up her teary face. "There's darkness too. I'll follow him anywhere because he's my boy."

"Haven't you ever just wanted to make it all stop and just be..." Julie faltered, looking for the right word.

"Aye, I have, more than you know. But it doesn't work that way. You, my lass, are a great girl, and I believe you love him, but I need to make sure you'll run when the time comes. It's not cowardice, it's keeping your sweetness." Chibs put a gentle hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Then he sat back down.

The eat breakfast in silence the rest of the time. Julie's heart was too confused to keep up chatter. Chibs respected her silence. Part of her was sure that a change of scenery could make all the difference. The other part of her was afraid of what might happen next.


End file.
